Last night, on the way home from work, I saw a license plate that said nothing but "WANG".

Need I say rock?

I am waiting for Ms. May to write me an email, hopefully saying that yes, she can go camping in November. I've been bitching about not having good visibility for the meteor showers, so May says "How about we go camping for the next big one?"

The Leonids are predicted to storm again this year. They're also peaking on the 19th of November. The 20th will be two years since...well, two years since K decided to be the ultimate fucking idiot.

I was planning on taking that day off, anyway. If his birthday fucked me up that way, I don't want to be at work on his death day.

No more of this.

I stayed the night at my best friend's house and we all watched A Walk to Remember and Leperchaun. There was beer involved. My friend, R, (he also works in a library) have planned a coup on Nicholas Sparks. Why a coup? I don't know. It made sense last night. We agreed that people who are into Nicholas Sparks are pretty much assholes. At least the ones over forty.

I also got tongued in the ear by the super-evil genius horse dog, again. He really, really loves me, Best Friend says. Great. That explains the spooning.

Fucking weird dog, he is.

So now I'm slightly hungover, covered in bruises and scratches, and my tee shirt is muddy for some reason. Oh, and I can't forget the hair which hasn't been brushed since 2 o'clock yesterday afternoon. I'm styling. I think I'm going to go watch MTV2 for some more Jimmy Fallon.

He would totally want me right now, I bet. Yeah.

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