Quote of the Day: We'd all like to make that great escape. Problem is, there's no where to escape to.

Don't you love my super long, windy quote title? I feel like freaking Panic at the Disco/Fall Out Boy.

[Un]Productive day today. koreanbeef/chickenthing,mushroomtofupotthatwasn'tspicy,coke,caesarsalad,vanillacupcakes,hotcheetospuffs,potatoes,cornonthecob,carrots,blackberries,icecream,frozendaiquris,chocolate,meltedicecoffeefrommcd's,kettlechips. Whew. What a feast. It'll take me two weeks of actual PE to get rid of all that junk. It seems like whenever I "run" I get freaking I'll Run stuck in my head. And that's not exactly the best song to pump your adrenaline too (but all you modern day Peter Gabriels will love that puppydog, how-to-woo-that-girl song). I get sad everytime I hear it (way to pick up the pace--with tears) and I always think of my [sometimes]best friend. Hope you're happy Mina--you're always on my mind during PE, one notch below cramps and two below pain, though. But third's the charm. Anyway I found the perfect song my future [hookah] hippie club will listen to during our...sessions. Manana. By...I forgot, but probably a bunch of pro-MJ adolescents who got baked in a beachouse and decided to record something.

Some people have so much gall I want to turn Lestat de Lioncourt on them and rip their fucking necks off. Or maybe that's too much.

I can never hold grudges. I tried today because I was [extremely] mad at my grannie and mom. So I decided to shun them. I got up to three hours. But then I started getting these weird, paranoid thoughts. And the rain and their random trip to the supermarket (again!) didn't help. And stupid SRC and you-should-apologize-while-you-still-have-a-chance.

Mm Prades [to Mom, in a sympathetic tone]: Dear mother, I am no longer infuriated by your irrational slander.
Mom [almost hysterical]: What did I do? I did nothing but slave over chores and you won't even blahblahblah
Mm Prades [to grandma]: Dearest grandma, because you are my elder and you're blood runs in my bloated veins,I forgive you for your horrendous gossiping.
Grandma: Blink, blink. You were mad at me?

Impossible.

Kyra is wonderful. I felt like including her here because she gave me a wonderful idea, which therefore makes her wonderful. Dear Kyra, if you are reading this you are the hoop to my hula. Ahahah.JK.

I need to change my song but my obvious lack of technology common sense won't let me. Help? Anyone? Where's Techna when you need her?

I'd love to stay an continue typing, but I really don't care anymore. And I forgot what I wanted to vent anyway. Ugh. I hate it when that happens. Stupid music.

Question: What ever happened to good ole' The Academy Is...? W.B used to have such a velvety voice--it was their trademark. And now? They sound like The Morning Light-meets-Relient K-and-some-other-band. What happened to the velvet?!

Eeeshhhhhh....our unofficial fridge is ghastly. It used to smell like lemons but someone put some fish or something in it and let it rot....eesssh. What's worse? This computer is within a three feet radius of it. If only I can get my cousin to stop opening it every ten seconds. Because I really just adore the smell of dead flesh. And parsnips so old it's practically embedded into the plastic bag. Yes. It's like going to a French bakery, our unofficial refrigerator.
Jeez. What's wrong with me today?


Actually signing off this time.......Madame Monday L. P. U. Prades. (the first and hopefully last and only)