June 28, 2002 :: 6:40 p.m.
yo, yo, yo, word up to my homies!
Obtained: season two of Buffy.
Not obtained: additional copy of Bust for Lisa, spiral notebook.
I had every intention of stopping at Borders to pick up the magazine, but when faced with the orgasmic prospect of all those books and the sobering reality that I only have $20 left to spend, I thought I'd better wait until I'm not in a 'buy everything in sight' mood. And the notebook would require a trip to Wal-Mart, something which I refuse to do alone unless I absolutely have to. That place scares me, dammit. The mullet-headed parents who roam the store with their mini-mullet toddlers freak me out. Especially when you go in the middle of the night (i.e., 3 a.m.) and you still see The Swiss Family Mullet there. It's just weird, I tell you. But I really need a notebook, so I may be forced to suck it up and go by myself. Unless I can bribe Amanda into going with me after she gets off work, that is. She's my Wal-Mart buddy, in addition to being my dear fake lesbian lover. We like to buy fun undies there and then come back to my house and do the New Underwear Dance.
In other news... what's with all these half-dead animals showing up in my yard? I mean, it's better that they're in my yard than it the yard of some drunken hick who likes to step on tiny birds and hear their bones snap, but yeesh. When I came home this afternoon, I saw Rufus batting something around. Upon closer inspection I learned that it was a small bird. It was still alive, but not looking so hot. My mom and I scooped it up in a towel and laid it in the little plant-filled aquarium thing that's on the porch. However, it was raining and nasty out a bit ago, so I brought the poor little thing inside. He (it just seems like a he) was moving around more earlier, walking a little, chirping, looking around, flapping his wings - well, one of his wings, the other might be broken - but now he's got his beak tucked into his feathers, apparently sleeping.
I don't know what to do with him. I don't want to put him back outside if he can't fly, because one of the cats will pounce on him without a thought. But I also don't want to just keep him in here until he dies, which may or may not be inevitable, depending on his condition. Maybe we'll take him to the animal lady tomorrow, the one we took the squirrel to. I don't remember her name or where she lives, but my mom does. When I was little, I found a crow who had (for whatever reason) broken its hip and fallen onto some railroad tracks (or vice versa), and we took it to this woman. She splinted its hip and eventually released it - it was the coolest thing to see. So that's an option. He's such a cute little bird. I was holding him in my hand earlier - he's smaller than my palm, and I have pretty small hands.
I wonder where Mason is... his horrible friend Justin is here, which means that I can't watch Buffy. Grr. But they're out right now, and have been for some time. I'm thinking maybe I can sneak in an episode before they come back, but I'm reluctant. Hmm.
Well, this has ceased to amused me, so I'm going to do something else. Like try to watch Buffy. Woo! Fun times, yo. Peace out? (Yes, I have in fact been captured by ghetto aliens and was replaced with a pod person who looks just like me but thinks and speaks in ebonics.)
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
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Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005