Wednesday, May 16, 2007

   And STILL more good news...

Here I am listening to some indeterminatly emo but still somehow good music at the CyberA cafe. I'm a little sore, and a bit sleepy, and god knows my had is falling off from the midterm in Dance History, but I fed three kads on neopets today...so it's a good day. Regardless of what might happen, I can now utilize that famous blind optomism I have... ...er... ...very deep down inside me and dance around like nothing is wrong until of course tomorrow rolls around. I turned in my paper for African Dance after banging it out on Word in under five minutes. Yeah, I'm just that amazing, that and I already knew what I wanted to say.

It went like this: "Inner Web was a raw, sensual dance, superb in its flowing sexual movements and raw energy. The use of deep trance music symbolized the amazing erroticism that flows from the circle of female dancers draped upon each other like an amazingly beautiful orgy."

And I'm sure they'll just lap it up over there in the office. Poor things are starved for sex. Anyway, I've been sticking to Dark Cloud on PS2 and Futurama late at night when I need a good cartoon fix of lameness. Other works include ...er.. ...nothing really. I've been laying low mostly because I've been lazy and or otherwise occupied. The drug trial I was in was hereby cancelled by me because I couldn't stand the taste inserting itself into everything I drank or ate. It made Josh's birthday cake taste like funk. WAAAH!!!! So no money a year from now for me, but let's face it, the stuff tasted like black death only in a nasal inhalant format instead of in black pustules all over my body.

How awful was it? Try chugging a bottle of jack mixed with vermouth and see how you feel afterwards. Only you can kill that taste with other flavors. It's been 24 hours since I last dosed myself and I can STILL taste it in every bottle of purified water I decide to drink. I may as well just end myself right here. Bleh. It's amazing how bad it is, and when they said it wasn't very good, I had no idea they meant it was this bad. Ah me, I suppose I'll survive. As for money making schemes, I mostly have none going on right now. But I do have hopes that they'll call me back at Addeco, either that or I'll kill myself. It's really quite a simple equation. Money equals D'Ann happy. Lack of money equals D'Ann's imminent suicide. There, that'll fix them

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