Pop, six, squish...
2003-01-24 - 7:01 p.m.

Okay, sitting here asking the keys on my keyboard who wants to be pressed probably won't get an entry done...

There needs to be more songs about murderesses a la Chicago's cell block tango. I mean really, murder is so damn catchy.

There was a baby on the bus on the way home. I again wanted to steal her. She bumped her head because her mother wasn't holding her tightly enough.

It gave me a vision of what I would be like with teenage children. I'd so overprotect them to death. If only they turned into teens less subtly, and I could give them away/kill them before they turned into those teen monsters/skanks.

That annoying complimenty old man was in the store again today. Today's weird compliment was along the lines of blah blah, me as Tom Cruise's wife...

Wanted to ask him whether he was blind or just senile, but restrained.

People visited. Shelley asked what had happened to FMHB (but using his real name), but I of course panicked and whispered a loud startled "Shutup!! I kill you!" which of course was heard by Claire. Who will possibly bring that up when I see her tomorrow... crud. Logical explanations, anyone?

And all that jazz...

New job yesterday, am trying to forget, but one part which confused me was where apparently Lana co-worker "will be doing the accounts," which was like great... so what am I doing again?

Am I a lap-dancing nun who solves crime yeeeeeeet... well I have the nun part down. Lap-dancing/crime solving classes anyone?


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