Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Carrot Juice Constitutes Murder

So. I'm not dead. And neither am I an otaku (at least not an avid one). Which is why I'm never on here. The only reason I signed in today was because my dear sissy (Miss Anonymous) asked me to report a plagiarist with her. I signed in, I reported, I left a scathing comment - I have done my civic duty. My real blog, the one which I frequent, is here - http://webfootedfriends.blogspot.com For those who care. (however few your number) And now, farewell! I'm off to save vegetables from vegans! *woosh*

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Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Damn you dust bunnies!

I have this theory, see. I'm pretty confident that there is a giant, monster dust bunny living under my bed, devouring my personal possessions for sustenenace. It would explain a lot. Like how my things keep vanishing, never to be seen again. And I'm not talking about "losing" them. In order to lose something, one must misplace it first. I did not misplace this particular item. In fact, I very distinctly remember where I put it. "It" is a new shirt I got at the mall last Saturday. A really nifty shirt that I liked and was soon going to give the title "my favorite shirt." It was a shirt for Mexico. I really liked that shirt. The last time I saw it was last Saturday, when I got back from the mall. I very specifically remember cutting off the tags, folding it, and putting it in my dresser. But when I looked for it yesterday, I could not find it. Anywhere. It wasn't in my dresser, it wasn't under my dresser, it wasn't in my hamper, nor my closet; it wasn't under my bed, or under my matress; it wasn't under my computer table or laying on my computer chair; it wasn't lumped up in a bundle behind my door (that is wont to happen in my bedroom), it wasn't anywhere on my floor at all; it wasn't in my sister's bedroom or my mom's, and it certainly was not in the washing machine or the dryer... or the laundry room period. I looked pretty much all over the house and it was nowhere to be seen. Pretty odd, considering the fact that I very clearly remember putting it away in my dresser. It's that dust bunny. That evil dust bunny. I have lost things to it before. And vacuuming under my bed does not seem to do any good. It's probably an immortal, evil dust bunny. All I know is, I want my shirt back, and if the immortal, evil dust bunny isn't willing to negotiate, there will be war. I have a swiffer-duster and I'm not afraid to use it!

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