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Thursday, 08/28/2008 - 4:41 p.m.

I ran the dishwasher, did a load of laundry, scooped cat crap, and dinner's in the oven. It's *supposed* to be a chicken casserole with biscuits baking on top, but it looks like a retarded chicken pot pie from hell. If it's terrible, we'll order pizza. Once again, June Cleaver can suck it.

DC and the Strawberry have been chatting a lot online and I'm all for it. I'm not 100% sure what they're talking about but if it makes them happy and gets them closer, do it with my blessing.

I'm still blowing off finding a new place for the Munch because I just don't care. Well, right now I don't care but come next week I'll care. Feh. There's a place I'm looking into tomorrow that should be fine.

25 more minutes until retarded chicken goodness.

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