I've had to pee for the past hour, yet my brain only registers that fact when I light up a cigarette. By the time I finish the cigarette, I forget I have to pee. Repeat.

It's cold. It's Florida. My feet feel like ice cubes. It's only the beginning of October. Something is not right here.

I'm going to be John Waters for Halloween. Take one bizarrely styled suit, some wingtips, a pair of purple socks, and a Sharpie to draw on a weaslestache. I can chop off my hair, dye it black and slick it back. I'll be sexy squared. Too bad no one will get it but me.

My tortoise is pissed cuz it's cold and he doesn't know how to hibernate. Then again, he always looks pissed so I may just be jumping to conclusions.

The Johnny Cash Rat ate my tube of cotton candy Lipsmackers.

I once ate a tube of cherry Lipsmackers on a dare.

My best friend came over yesterday to read over my application for the writer's community thingy. While she was trying to read, I was trying to reclaim the ability to make farting noises w/my armpits. I was amused. *Too* amused.

This very same friend is looking to move into a house w/the address 420. I was amused. *Too* amused.

I wish I still smoked pot so I would have an excuse for being so easily amused.

Howie is molting and is very self-conscious about it. He looks all raggedy and cute.

'Moondance' by Van Morrison could very well be the greatest song ever written.

Halloween is still in 30 days.

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