I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others--young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life.

I feel like devouring a tub of cookies n' cream ice-cream with extra cookies and watching the best chick flick ever made. I'm almost there apart from the fact that I think something died in the fridge over Christmas (and by something I mean my neighbour's pathetic attempt at preserving pizza, though it could pass for a furry rodent. It's kinda cute even in a mouldy way, I named it Rodger.) and that I have already consumed all the chick flicks that the world of Hollywood has regurgitated on what is known as my private world of brainlessness (a.k.a. surfthechannel.com).

Tonight I'm going to have to settle for the next best thing; I'm going for the unripe clementines and ... Wedding Crashers?

Damnittttttt