Won't you drive me to Dorking? (...It's a town!!)

Mood: Dorkish. Look at me, I am a big dork! ...Blarg.
Music: David Bowie - Lets Dance [best song ever!!!]
Number of Days that Remain 'Till International Anneliese Day: 17

Okay Bubba. You and I are gunna sit down, have ourselves a little chat, and settle this like gentlemen.

First off - I KNOW YOU READ MY BLOG!!!! I can tell by the abnormally high* ammounts of hits that my images are getting. So far my grotesquely obese friend Caitlin (as seen in last post) has had 16 hits!! 16 of them!!! Now, I am a fan of my own writing -- what can I say? I rock! ...But even if half the hits were mine (because they aren't, I actually kept track this time) that still leaves eight of them unaccounted for. Well, seven, because I know how Mikey enjoys prying into my life. But that's at least seven weird people diving into the wonders that are my blog. ...Unless Mikey just likes to pry alot... which would be even weirder.
In any case. Hello? Do I know you? ...Why don't you leave a comment? Are you trapped inside a world with only mouses and no keyboards? Are you secretly in love with me? Are you working for the CIA (if so, BUSH SUCKS)?
Whatever the case, do not be shy. Leave a comment! Right now it feels as if I'm being stalked by ninjas... I can feel your presence but when I turn around your cat-like stealth is always too quick for me. So comment! It's a win-win situation, folks c'mon!! You get to leave a message to one of the coolest people in existance, and in doing so I get to disguise myself with the illusion that I have friends! w00t w00t!

Also! Maybe we could be pen pals!! Wouldn't that be exciting??

Well Bubba, that's pretty much it. So, moving on!

As you can tell by some previous statements, I am the self-proclaimed biggest dork who ever dorked. My frequent journeys to my locker are inexcusable. I am becoming accustomed to stalking my hall during period five even though half of the time it smells like onions and the other half like latex paint. What is wrong with me? Today I elected to read an egyptology book for the fifth time this semester instead of coming home where there is food just begging to be eaten. FOOD, people!!! I can often be mistaken for a twelve-year-old girl on a sugar high. It appears as though the newly-manufactured emotional walls just weren't strong enough.
Yes, yes, it appears that I have rebelled against my former heartbroken, cautionary self and in a fit of crazed dancing and maniacal laughter re-entered the world of schoolgirl crushing.
No matter though, because should I see the object of my affliction I usually become the most self-concious person in the world and concequently am probably not very exciting.

Haha. Now *POOF!* everyone has forgotten what they just read! :-)

Anyways. Getting oil paint in one's eye is not very fun. GAH! She's blind! She's blind!


Ta Da!


*more than ten (10)