Does anyone else from Cleveland get a little heartsad when watching Major League. My sister told me that she was watching it the other day and started to get teary. At first I scoffed...then I realized that it was likely the closest I'd ever be to seeing a Cleveland championship in my lifetime...

And on another note, why on earth is it that Renaissance Fairs and bikers go together? Not necessarily two things that I'd think go together well. I mean, peanut butter and jelly? Yes. Bikers and beer wenches? Not so much.

I got Bertie Bott's Beans today (if you read Harry Potter, you'know what I'm talking about). I think I ate a vomit one. I immediately spit it out in a gesture that was only partially grandiose. Yet despite the split second-ness of the occurrence, the disgusting taste still remained. At this point, I am desperately trying to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth, to no avail. Having it there makes me feel like REALLY vomiting every time I swallow. It's a beautiful catch-22, it really is. You'd enjoy the irony of a piece of vomit candy making me vomit for real.

I'm almost out of my Double Berry Twirl LipSmackers. This is indeed a tragic day, because I asked my new Magic 8 Ball if I was going to Target after work to get some new LipSmackers, and it said that the outlook was not so good...

Finally, because everything blurs together, did I mention this? My friend sent an email today telling us that she has been touched by His Noodly Appendage. Obviously, praise be to His Noodliness. We are Saved. (Well, not you, unless you have accepted the Flying Spaghetti Monster as your Lord and Savior...)

It has now been one week since the death of my lawn mower. We had some good times in the last year and two weeks (aka two weeks out of warranty) but I really think that he just needed more than I could give him (aka oil). I think that it's best that our relationship came to an end (aka I pay someone to cut my lawn next year).