That dinosaur is hungry.

It’s a morbid fascination.

Your subject line is haunted.

I don’t know about Rick Perry.  I think McCotter’s got my vote for sure.  Michele Bachmann will never be president.  She should drop out of the race along with Romney (shudder) and Gingrich.  I can’t believe Gingrich is still trying.  Stop wasting everyone’s time, Newt.

Well, that was a wash.

I don’t want to work.  I just want to finish this book.

Pomegranate limeade.  That sounds weird.  And tart.

Me: “Hello?  Can you hear me?”
Woman: “No.”  …

Please.  Pleeeeeease send me yet another phone call with a cranky person who is going to yell at me.

Hello shoes.

Still.

portentous.

Connecting those dots would take all day.

Oh, Santa.  Ha.

I seem to have picked up a headache along the way.

perilous.

Always only just.

Gene Simmons thinks Perry, eh?  He might not be wrong.

But I already broke up with Adam Baldwin.  I can have Daniel Craig if I want.

This website is hilarious.

Want!

Argh.  My eye won’t stop twitching.  Violently twitching.

Stop being so ridiculous.

presaging.

I wouldn’t live IN Seattle.  Just nearish Seattle.

It’s bothering me now.  Paranoid, I’m sure.

Oogy.

Too much air conditioning.  So over the air conditioning.  Must turn air conditioning down.

I remember hearing this song a ton when I was a kid and I hated it.  It’s true.  I love it now though.

Wow.  The Maxx.  Memories.

inauspicious.

You’re ignoring the icky person who feels icky.

Don’t bowl me over donut hole.

I need more tea.

oooooooooooph.

Mysterious ick, indeed.

Stop eating Domo, T Rex.  He’s not easily digestible.  Try the zombie, he’s well seasoned.

It is what it is, bitch.

You know who’s really pretty damn lunchable?  Mike Rowe.

Oh they’re tearing down the bridge.

I’ve never even been to Seattle.

Tread lightly, those clouds look ominous.