Much Ado About Nothing

Been up since 4 this morning, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Had fallen asleep on the floor again, last night, half on and half off the throw rug. I later awoke to M on the phone, talking to Shell about catching a trolley, and a whiff of something foul (a fart? my breath? old catfood?) then roused myself and stumbled off to bed.

That was around - well, I don't really know what time it was - but somewhere in the pm.

Then at 4 in the a.m., the ol' internal clock kicked in, and it was time to Rise -n- Shine!

I normally leave for the gym at 5, but with a little extra time on my hands, I was inspired to create a "play list" for my Ipod, in preparation for an ass kicking, blood-pumping, work out from from hell!

And then,
things just sort of dissembled...
into other things.

Yeah.

So now I'm sitting here listening to "My Dick*" by Mickey Avalon, as I type.

*I know, I know - but it's a catchy little tune and some of the lines are pure unadulterated, adolescent gold:

My dick - Size of a pumpkin.
Yo' dick - Look like McCauley Culkin.

My dick - Won't fit down the chim-i-nee.
Yo' dick - Look like a kid from the Philippines.

My Dick - Rumble in the Jungle.
Yo' Dick - Touched by yo' Uncle.

Pure poetry.

Yeah, so, it's nice to steal a little time away, screw the pooch, and pontificate on... well, nothing really.

Ah, glorious nothing.

Sigh.

And now I'm late for work.