fried dirt cakes and dirt on the cob
Someday I might come up with a spiffy design for this thing. But not until I take the time to learn html better. It would have to be my own creation.
It's been a week of revelation so far in karate. I'm having to completely change the way I'm doing a lot of things. But it's all like, "Oh yeah, of course it would have to be like that. Why didn't I think of that?" I think the reason they come here is to keep us from apostatizing overly much...
The first thing I thought when I heard them Brit black belts talking was, "Hey, they talk like the Beatles!"
I just wrote on a dry erase board with permanent marker. Oops...
Chuck actually admitted to me tonight that she's "full of shit." At least she realizes it, right?
The next century could be a nasty one.
I thought I had something to say tonight, but it doesn't seem that I do. Oh- I talked to my French professor again today. She said my writing was better at the beginning of the semester. Thanks, teach.
Chuck says she feels "suicidal" tonight. So what do you want me to do about it? She told me this after I told her she was being petty, so I think she just said it because she was mad at me and wants to make me feel guilty. Annoying that. I told her, "Obviously suicide is the only rational solution to your problem."
I'm not always the most sympathetic guy around. Verbally. But hey- who was it who sat up with her last night and read to her when she was so sick? Who is it that comes to see her whenever she's lonely? Who is it that talks to her whenever she has something on her mind? Who is it that drives her everywhere she wants to go? Who is it that patiently takes her crap, constantly? That would be... ME. Just don't threaten me with suicide. It pisses me off.
And it worries me.
Pretty blasť entry. Sorry.
forgetting me, remember me,