Alright people...I have a mission for you. Draft up a letter for me to give to Dave in which I blame him for my inability to write anything fiction-wise since we both started dating AND since we broke up.
Cause trust me...it's his fault.
In other news, I'm writing you from my own computer in my own bedroom on my own phoneline which is running at 53,333bps. All you fucking roadrunner people can start laughing now but for this house, this is pretty fucking fast considering how upstairs only runs at 45,555 or sometimes 49,222bps. They got the short end of the stick. Only problem with this is that I'm on the main-line which means that I have to disconnect whenever someone wants to use the phone and or decides to call us.
And I hate you people who decide to call us.
And, damn you, Kate. Email me already, will ya? I can mail something out first thing tomorrow if you just let me know.
