"Wake up and waste a day, chase away a day at a time and waste away."
-The Matches
This is the second incident in what is becoming a disturbing trend if you count the dream where I was in a band with Kirley Duke and Bono and we were playing in a sushi restaurant where they payed us in knuts, per song, like a jukebox. This I blame entirely on that juice I found last night, which must have been tainted with something. Mold, maybe. Also, we're out of apples. And those twist-tie things that hold bags closed. And duct tape, but I'm not allowed to explain why. Apparently things fall apart when I'm not around.