It's generally not a good thing when you're up to the discussion part of your psych paper, the part where you make all the wonderfully grand conclusions on the evidence you have presented, and the only thing going on in your head is:

miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow miaow ...

This could be a biproduct of the coke factor plus the fact I've been sitting here, or around here, for about eight hours.

This of course has led to much mutual bonding between myself and the printer. We make fun of what the computer is doing together ... ah, good times.

Except just recently our relationship has turned rather sour. When it prints now it makes these strange noises like someone jumping up and down on a bed ... or two people doing something else on a bed ... so I have to turn to it and say "Don't you think you're having a little too much fun there?"

But dang old printy doesn't listen and instead carries on until he prints out some piece of gibberish instead of what I asked for, causing me to chide him ... but he doesn't ever take it on board and just keeps printin' his own wacky nonsense.

Oh where shall a girl neglected by her own printer turn? I suspect to the comfort of something more sleek, attractive and young ... preferably a CD burner. Mmmmmm, CD burner ...

... I think I may have taken a very wrong turn on the road to "Semi-normal entry". Like Daffy and Bugs when they end up in ... Alberquerque? Where the heck where they intending to go, anyway?

And on the note I can conclude with no fear nor doubt that I am in mental alberquerque.

Well, maybe a little doubt. But no fear! ... ... ... okay, but only a bit. What if I get shrunken and unable to claim property of that pearl, I ask you, WHAT THEN?!

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