[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Today I made a new recording of an old song of mine. Please check it out!
Argh I can hardly keep my eyes open. Gotta stay awake and accept a package for Michael that is supposedly coming today. I think it’s the next dead rising game. I will be glad when gaming season is over. Except it’s never ever over, there are always more games, and they are infinitely more important than life. Last night I had a dream that I was wrestling with the devil. I was all like, “Foo, you can’t scare me!” and he was all like “Bitch, heck yes I can!” So I clawed his eyes out and forced myself to stay awake. I was in a really deep sleep. I am still so exhausted even though I had been sleeping for 12 hours. And my body is still like “MOAR! I WANT MOAR SLEEPS!” Michael ate half of the Cheetos I had a craving for last night. :( Oh well, not like my fat useless princess ass needed them anyway.
Surprise!
I came downstairs after dinner and set my glass down, and saw that Michael had left me a few chocolates via Treasure.
So sweet! <3
Blarf
I had a Beaver Buzz 
and then nothing was happening enough so I took 3 caffeine pills and now I feel like blarfing my guts out but I still have to clean the bathroom
I can’t tell iffen the pleasantly cold hunk of frozen hell wedged between my breasts is my heart, or a can of soda from the fridge.
Hoarding House Dream
Last night I dreamed of breaking into an old neglected house that I have been to before in my dreams a few times though never in real life. All the floors in the house are water damaged and rotten, so you have to be extremely careful with every step. I always go down below ground level a few floors and then it looks like the kind of place a really drunk homeless person would only crawl into in extreme desperation to get warm as they pass out. There is old moldy couches covered in broken glass with syringes poking out from under cushions with old dried up cat corpses probably trapped underneath. There are piles of old clothing and blankets in built up seas surrounding the furniture, and you have to stand on one of these couches and crawl through a hole in the next floor up to reach a level above, which is a kitchen, to which all other ways are blocked off. When you climb up into the kitchen floor, you can’t see anything exposed other than the stove, under all of the rotten junk. There is a huge torn dip in the linoleum that looks to be where you would normally stand to wash dishes. The dining room table to the left of the cooking area has become a pile of pissy looking old sheets and retro curtains enfolding the odd withered cereal box and occasional stuffed animal here and there. In the dream I don’t know why, but I’m feeling brave and extremely curious and I walk over to the huge torn hole in the linoleum and I begin pulling it way back, revealing an old bathtub full to the brim with garbage and old candy bar wrappers and probably rotten food. I think to myself, “is this stuff from the homeless people who drift through here, or was this how the people actually lived?” Then I notice all these shelves on the walls of the kitchen are stocked to the brim with unopened packages of candy and chips, and cases of pop and alcohol, all junk food treasures. I think that if any homeless person worked up the balls to come looking in here they wouldn’t leave this stuff so untouched. At this point in the dream, Michael is with me looking around in the house, and I say: “Michael, these people were like us.” and that’s when I woke up. Such a strangely fascinating dream, I have been in that house many times before in my sleep, but have never been so brave.
