Scrambi Eggs (scrambi) wrote,
Scrambi Eggs


My brother hates me now cause he caught me having spaghetti sauce for dinner. I explained to him that it's like that Italian soup gazpacho, or gargamel... that cold soup that's just sauce. Gourmet ghetto. I had Cherry Coke and margerine for breakfast, so I had to slip in some kinda vegetable based pseudo-meal. Tonight's a full moon, which might explain why I woke up all hateful and couldn't shake it through the day. I may be pre-menstrual, if that even happens anymore. I've decided bleeding is gay, and last century, and going to the doctors to figure out why my young reproductive system is an amniotic wasteland, is even gayer. I'd rather not know. Plus, this way I can focus on the modern me and volunteer for cyborging, without having to be tied down to any little miracles. Besides, on the plane to Portland last week, I had a muscle spasm in my shoulder trying to restrain it from cold-cocking an infant who was gurgling and getting on my nerves. I want to go into the kitchen/closet and get more sauce but then Emeril on the couch might start in. My blister hurts. I miss Rue. Speaking of all things Blanche.. I entered two poems in the paper anonymously. Well, I made a few pen-names out of Golden Girls references. Weird... but I didn't want my name associated with them this time, cause I was too cranky to enjoy my own words. I thinking Johnny-cook-a-lot is asleep. Sauce...
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