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05:24:04 - 2000-01-28

Happy Shitty Fuckin' Friday!!!

I tried to do my own personal page at people.diaryland.com, but fucked it up royally. I couldn't get a picture uploaded (like it was IMPERATIVE you people saw how ugly I am) last night, so I went to bed, content on what I had done.

Then...sometime in the middle of the night ... I dreamt how to fix the picture on the page.

This is one of my unique talents. For some strange assed reason, whenever I am in a quandry, I can dream the solution to the problem. Through my dreams I have located missing things (Example: I dreamt one time that the videotape of my marriage was behind our entertainment center after it being lost for months. Sure as shit...there it was the next day). I have fixed things (I dreamt how to rewire my phone system...no shit).

I've used the dream method a few other times in life, but quite frankly, I can't go into those sticky situations here. Like I said ... I have friends reading this. So my diary isn't as "anonymous" as some of the braver souls here. I don't need my real life friends calling my house saying "Soooo....tell me about this goat you got pregnant and how you got outta THAT mess, o' mighty dream master..."

Anyway ... I get up this morning at 4:30 to fix the fucking picture on my page and lo and behold...my goddamned dreams let me down.

Now my page looks like a four-year old's first attempt at HTML.

I don't why I let this get me down. So what if I come off looking like a retard? LIKE I GIVE A SHIT!

In other news ... let's talk snow. I know a lot of you Yankee diariers are sick of us Southern Diariers talking about snow like a 14 year-old babbling incessantly about his first tit squeeze. Sorry ... this shit just doesn't happen down here every day.

Anyway...all week long the weather guys have been predicting snow for our area. SUBSTANTIAL amounts of snow. Almost as much snow as Ben Affleck can snort up his nose in one night.

I said it. You didn't.

So last night, after picking up my ummmmm...."blizzard bag" ... I stopped by the grocery store to get some dog food.

Fucking pandemonium.

It reminded me of scenes from "Armageddon". You couldn't turn around in the store. Hell, I couldn't even get my dog's regular food ... the crowd was too fucking thick and check out lines were stretched to the meat department.

I grabbed three cans of ShitStinkin' Dog Food and got in line.

30 minutes later, I walked out of there with three fucking cans of dog food.

It's now 5:20 a.m. Winter Storm 2000 has been churning since midnight.

.....And all we got is fucking rain.

Rain.

Rain.

You fucking piece of precipitation, rain.

The local coke-addicted homo weatherman says that we "may" still get some kind of precipitation that isn't rain. But the temperature is 35 degrees. Get real, Johnny Cokehead. It ain't happenin'.

My life is poop.

With a little bit of precipitation thrown in to make life interesting.

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