Oh dear...

Last week I misspelled the LiveJournal address (www.livejornal.com) and got a porn site. At work, no less.

More presents!

Sam the cat (you know, the one whose favorite phrase if he could talk would be "You kids get off my lawn") was feeling his oats this weekend. Grand total: 3 moles, 2 of which were thrown at my door.

Just call me a Southern-fried Bridget Jones.

Sunday night, 8:41 PM: I went through the check-out line at Tar-jay with the latest issue of Cosmo, a romance novel, and a five-pound bag of cat food. All that was missing was the chocolate.

Forget walking stereotype. I'm a walking caricature.

Oh no. Oh, no....

But I don't want this result!!

Okay, slow down here, you shouldn't try to please everyone, and you definately shouldn't try to spend every waking moment with them either. Two aspirin are prescribed for every two minutes with you. But don't worry, there's hope, just learn to back off a little and maybe get tested for ADD, and you'll make a friend. Maybe even two.