I've got a serious case of senioritis. I rolled in about an hour late this morning, suffering from a wicked hangover, thanks to a little overindulgence in mai tais last night during the "LOST" premiere. I've got that hot-neck nausea thing going on - retch!
AND WHY IS EVERYONE TALKING SO LOUD IN HERE? Shit.
EXCEDRIN, WHY DO YOU HATE ME?
WHY IS PAYMENT FOR A GOOD TIME SUCH MISERY?
This is why I could never truly be an alcoholic. I don't have the tolerance.
This is going to have to suffice as my Wednesday post.
Blergh.
When you write your first book your author's photo has to be shaky face.
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