The Daily Grind

So this is day one of week two for the blog. Awwwwwww. Today also marks the end of the third week since either Chris or I have bought groceries. Thank you non-perishable foodstuffs. Still, this is pushing it. We might get some today. Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe we'll see how it goes going an entire month with a near empty refrigerator. It's up in the air for us.

I found a really nice water bottle in my French class a couple of weeks back. It's one of those metal ones. I washed it out and now use it quite often. These sentences have been very curt and clipped. I just stopped blogging to drink out of it, but it was empty so I just tossed it up in the air a few times. I am now back, typing incessantly and with inanity. Just here I had a brief conversation with Chris about how Five Mins. of Heaven was really bad and how Taken, while not really a good movie, was awesome. Action movies don't need to be good anyway. They just need to be action-y. The link between the two, if you're unaware of the prior, is that they both star Liam Neeson. Yeeeeeaaaahhhhhh. I'm not really going anywhere with this, maybe even less so than usual. I'll stop now.

That's The Devil Leaving Your Body

I'm throwing up a lot lately. Like, this past month has accounted for 25% of my vomiting experiences since freshman year of high school. This latest time, being last night, Chris, Jaime, Kevin and I were walking around Fox Hollow, smoking cigars. At some point I remembered that I had yet to regale Kevin with how my left arm is shorter than my right, so I began to do so. When it came to the point in the story to show him, I put my cigar in my mouth and did so. At this time, however, I somehow managed to take a full breath of cigar. Now, if you've not had any experience with cigars, let me tell you now that they're very strong in general. This one was particularly strong. Also, inhaling a relatively substantial amount of cigar smoke will make you vomit. Fast forward to twenty minutes later, and I was laying on the floor of Jaime's apartment. Another five minutes and I was in his bathroom, vomiting the decidedly mediocre risotto Kevin had made. It's fine for me to say that, as he himself said it was decidedly mediocre. Even if he hadn't it would still be okay. God, get off my back. I can say what I want. At this point, we decided to go see Where The Wild Things Are, a very very odd movie to say little. On the way, though, we had to make two stops: one for gas, one for, you guessed it, more vomiting! But you always feel so much better after the fact, yeah? That's always nice at least.