I made a hideous mistake the other day.
I was putting stuff in the freezer and I saw a very old beef chop and it was all freezer burned, so I pitched it.

BIG mistake!

In my house, you can only throw away meat if it's a garbage day, and it was not, so I threw it in the rubbish and happily went out lalala, came back and in the middle of my kitchen floor there was a styrofoam tray and ripped cellophane and...

no beef chop.

I looked for it and looked for it, and them bad kitties are no help at all, as they just keep dragging the styrofoam back out and gnawing on it. I have almost no sense of smell (18 years of smoking will do that for you), which is a blessing most times, but it's no help now!

Somewhere in my house is a melting rotting beef chop.

Ace Ventura is on tonight, and I will make the supreme sacrifice of watching it, because I loathe that movie, but my dear Da is in it, so I must. If you want to watch and look for him, he is playing the father of the football player, the one with the big rifle when Ace goes to the house that says "Dan Marino Must Die" all over it.

There's this Diary e-mailing list that I belong to, and this morning, Jen wrote:

"I had the funniest dream last night--I dreamt that I was on the 'net, but for some reason, the only two sites I could access were Kymm's and Carolyn's diaries. No matter what URL I typed in, either Kymm's or Carolyn's page would pop up."

Boy o boy, if that was true my hits would go through the roof!

Made another journal list, Jackie's this time.
So, it seems that I'm an addiction, but Melody's greatly inspiring!

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