2000-08-28

Blah.

The slumber party at La Casa de Krebstar was great fun. When I am feeling better, I will tell you all about it; it's just that right now, I am still feeling crappy. I chalked this crappiness up to a hangover yesterday morning, as I sat at the local Bickford's, turning different shades of green while my girlfriends ordered immense plates of greasiness redolent of, um, grease, and orange cheese food product. But as the day wore on, and I found myself feeling crappier and more light-headed, I began to suspect that something more was going on.

I went to bed last night at 7:30, and slept for 12 straight hours. I still feel like crap.

This is no hangover.

So when I'm feeling better, I will regale you all with tales of water balloons, panty raids, 80's-teen-flick-bad-guy-hair, Biore nose strips and the proper way to grunt in porn movies. Today, though, all I can muster is this:

I fucking hate chain letters.

With the exception of the smashing underpants chain letter that Trik sent me, I make it a point to break these things.

I do not want to forward ASCII art depicting Tweety Bird, or Mr. Tiki Totem Whatever-The-Fuck, to 10 of my friends.

I do not want to send five dollars to some broad I've never met, so that "we women" can "realize our dreams."

I don't believe for a minute that some dying kid in East Armpit, Iowa, wants to amass the Biggest Collection of Business Cards in the Whole Wide World.

Bill Gates and Walt Disney, Jr., are not going to send me to Orlando if I help them test their "email tracking system."

I'm a bad, bad person, and bad things will happen to me because I didn't send Mr. Tiki Totem Man, in all his ASCII glory, to everybody in my address book within 48 hours.

I break chain letters, kids. I ruin the fun for all of you.

lisamcc at 21:07:07

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