Holy crap! There's this dude on Boston Med who was at Ruggles Station in Boston and fell on the third rail. On his face. On the third rail. He lived! His face basically vaporized. He's already had 10 surgeries on it, and now he's getting a face transplant (second ever in the U.S.). I'm assuming this was done in 2009. Incredible. How do people not watch this?
Maybe they are too busy reading about blood sausage like Wikus and I were doing earlier. That is some gross shit that can literally be found in almost every corner of the world. Pig snouts! Bloody oatmeal. Or perhaps you prefer yours made with horse meat and barley. There is a blood sausage variation for everyone.
This week has been difficult. I have some kind of sleeping sickness. Tuesday evening the kittens were lazing on the bed, and I cuddled with them, and fell flat out the fuck to sleep. Basically, I slept from 6pm to 6:45am. Then to bed at 8pm on Wednesday night. I managed to make it to 9pm last night, and it is already 9:30pm tonight, and I'm still awake. Not for long, though. I can't stop yawning. It helped that Wikus was here catching up on Futurama with me.
I'm not sure if my sudden overwhelming need to sleep is my body's way of revenge for my weekend of heavy drinking. If so, I don't care. I had the best weekend ever. Frijole is the fucking bomb. So is Guamaniac. Drinks, food, shopping, homosexuals! Even that bitch at Austin's Museum of Modern Art (go ahead and snort, it should be ashamed of itself as a modern-art museum) who got all pissy when we tried to start a series of photos on How to Point at Art. Then got even more pissy when I was being this rude asshole by leaning my shoulder against the edge of a wall. I have some serious audacity, I know. I hope she didn't notice that I rubbed my vagina the door handle to the gift shop (yes, she followed us in there, too).
Tomorrow I get to play with Amazon and see The Boy's summer choral performance. Here's to hoping I can stay up to 11pm or so. My adoration for the Amazon is immense, so I'm sure I'll manage. Even if that slore didn't even get with me until last night on if she was going with me or not. I believe her husband strong-armed her. I appreciate that. She claims I can't go with someone else, because she bought new underwear just for me. Awww. As if Amazon has ever had a single sexual thought about me in her life. I'm still happy she can joke about such things. I demanded this new underwear to be a lacy thong, but she demurred.
It is time to start thinking of what I want to submit to this year's art contest. It is a bit earlier this year. Yet, I also know about it earlier. I just don't have any ideas right now. Can I mosaic sleep? That is my mood, my inspiration. Maybe a mosaic of just darkness? Or I can get that Pegacorn mosaic going for Ivy Vyne, and just submit that. Perhaps I can get my Bacons & Egg from Guamaniac. Then I won't have to do any work! I can submit two, so I guess I could submit an old one and a new one.
Must think of something. Suggestions are welcomed.
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