Sunday is my Grumpy Day

Ok, I never noticed before that sweet tarts are really called sweetarts. One T. I don't like that. That's more like sweet arts. The people at Nestle make good candy but can't spell.

Is anyone noticing that I am getting really lazy with this NaBloPoMo thing? I always think of neat crap to write about when I am nowhere near the computer. When I get online I either can't remember the topic or have decided that it sucked in the first place. I find myself in front of this computer night after night, constantly fighting the urge to complain about one thing or the other.

Why am I so determined to complete this? I fear that it is bringing out the worst in me. How long can you guys really listen to me bitch? Look at this picture. Waylon is licking his ass on the sofa and I am so frustrated with the blog that I don't care! I have sucked the life out of that cigarette to the point that it isn't burning anymore. My right hand looks like it is holding a phantom wine glass. I am determined to finish what I started here, which is unlike me, and making me crabby, if you haven't noticed.



Only 23 posts to go. I really am enjoying this. I think.