April 15, 2011

dial 9-1-1 don't send help

dear calling all cars diary,

this shall be- accounted for, and recorded as, posting number nine hundred and eleven. the snake is all out again looking for a rat i suppose. "none tonight buddy," somebody needs to tell her- so she can go back to bed. oh yeah, the grump just farted a big ole long fart- real juicy soundin- it oughta be smelling up here any minute. i feel like some coleslaw or something crunchy- i forgot there's some carrots in there still. OMFG THAT FART STANKS. but it doesn't keep me from remembering the cherry iced cherry donuts from the donut hole when i was a kid. how i wish i could slow time down to a stop and wake my mom up and have her go get us some. she would too, cuz she liked them as much as i do. then i'd get to see her big blue eyes again. and just maybe- i wouldn't be able to figure out how to come back. wouldn't that be a shame. i wouldn't come back if i didn't have to anyway. i'd stay and eat the donuts.