You guys are tards

Seriously~ Skeetz & I have figured out a minimal amount of code to keep up this blog and you people can't even leave a comment! Okay, here's what to do: Click Comments scroll to the bottom and leave a fake email so-as-not-to-be-spammed, like iman@idiot.com with your real name in the name field, so we know which one you are, and click submit or send or whatever it says. I'd check but I don't feel like it because I'm a bit curmudgeonny. You don't need an URL (Bob).

So. No links today. No need for them. Terri Schiavo was officially starved to death, Dad succeded in his bypass surgery, Jessica won her battle with Oxygen and the Pope died.

Bob got the tickets of the century to the Final Four (you college basketball people really need a LIFE). So he boogied, Jackie is still in Key West and here I am, with a 5 year old and several 17 year olds calling me "Mama L***". I'm sorry, but I ain't no "Mama L***" I'm no spring chicken, but I can still turn the heads of some Puerto Ricans on occasion! They say stuff to me, like "mmmm baby oyacomosta om brade de posta de grande!" I have no Puerto Rican idea of what they are saying, but I guess it's complimentary.

Anyhoo, I called "Shotty" to see if she wanted to "chat some". She called me backed and laughed like hell that I said "anyhoo" and "chat". I will never be cool again.

And I heard Mitch Headburg is dead. He was funny. He once called me a bitch. I was honored. Too bad. I saw him once... we were in a really bad section of the theatre, and he was really wasted so we couldn't understand a friggin word of the show. It was great! Ah well, I'm not thinking he's in line in front of the Pope.

Well, that's as much time as I've wanted to spend on this nonsense and it sucked. I hope it sucked for you, too.

All my love~
Pooke