Oooops I did it again..
2004-10-29, 9:19 p.m.

Well thank you everyone who tried to make me feel better by blaming Dland for all my dropped posts yesterday, but the fault was totally my own. I screwed up trying to be fancy with the linkage. (However, I AM typing this on wordperfect. ;)

Soooooo, tomorrow Amanda is supposed to dress up for bowling. She�s on a league, I don�t know if I�ve mentioned that. I didn�t tell her that officially makes her a dork. No offense to all you league bowlers. My entire family bowls on leagues, actually. I don�t because I suck and I refuse to competitively play a game I suck at. Even if it is for fun. It�s not fun if I suck. It�s fun if other people suck. Sorry, had to get that out of the way. My family is really hounding me to bowl with them. I just had to restate my position for my own benefit.

Amanda�s costume is kind of like a gothic vampire, I guess. Except she doesn�t want to bowl in a dress. Kinda can�t blame her. She picked up these bunny ears and a cottontail at the dollar store, and that�s what she wants to go as. I guess we�ll just throw some white sweats on her. Now, they�re having prizes for best costume. A bunny isn�t even going to place. A gothic vampire won�t either, of course. So I suggest to her we put blood coming out of her mouth and nose, black X�s across her eyes and tire tracks across her clothes - Road Kill! It�s an excellent idea. I don�t have her talked into yet, but I�m tenacious! I�ll let ya know!

BTW, TREESSSA , if you�re reading this, I screwed up my diary again. I figured ah hell, I�ve already lost three posts, I might as well foul up my diary as well. I mean, if you can�t be on a winning streak, might as well go on a losing one. That way, you�re still consistent about something. So anyways, I was playing around with the optional field, but I couldn�t get it working right. In the meantime, I lost the title of each post. It now just says %% short_description%%. I don�t know how I do these things. Must be a gift. So anyways, if you feel like fixing it for me I�ll send you my first born*.

*dog. or fish. or husband. not child.

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