If Ya Can't Keep a Job, at Least Keep a Bike

Due to recent legal issues, I have been unable to find time to post. I am sure you are all ecstatic to have me back. 'You all' being, well, my other personalities as no one else is reading anymore. Can't say that I blame them. Well, there are still a few of you. Okay so there are two of you. So thank you both for your continued dedication to my absolutely meaningless tangents. Am I using that right? 'Tangents' I mean. I don't know really. I always thought I was using it properly, but the more I think about it, the more I think I am going insanity and just talkin all out my head and apparently seeing how long I can make one run-on sentence last. I bet you are wondering if there really are only two people left reading this or if I am making it up to make each of you feel like you are being allowed to read something no one else knows about. To that I can only say earmuffs.

Next on the veranda, I am going to tell what all has been going on with me lately. So yea. I actually probably should skip this next part as I may be going to prison, but what the hell. Last week I ran over a man in my car. Wait, actually I ran over a man with my car. I didn't actually run over a man who was like chilling out in my car eating a sandwich or something. That'd just be silly. No, I assure you, the man was outside of my car. I can practically hear your collective, "Phew!!"

When I say I ran over him, what I mean to say is, he ran into me. This drunk homeless man was riding a bicycle along the right side of the road. I moved into the left lane because, well, that just seemed like the polite thing to do. Anyway, long story short, when the front passenger side of my car and his bike were parallel to one another, he swerved suddenly, plowing into my car. He landed on the hood, busted the windshield, and caused other damage. Long story shorter, left scene to get ambulance, returned to dicky cop, went to hospital. Long story shortest, ativan, if man dies=vehicular manslaughter. Sooo...yea. I could go to prison. I assume he is alive as no one has given me reason to believe otherwise.

In other news (I love saying that), Joey is no more. Well, I say it like he is dead or at least dead to me or something. It is not that. Am I still interested in him? Most definitely, but I feel it is not mutual. It is just that we live three hours from one another and he never called or text messaged me and he made out with some random guy at the club a couple of weekends ago and I watched Oprah. At some point, last week I would guess, Oprah was talking about a book called He's Just Not That Into You: The No-Excuses Truth to Understanding Guys. I know how it sounds, but shut the hell up looking at me, bitch. So yea, the title alone had me thinking about it, then there was what the guy who wrote it actually talked about from the book. I don't know. It just made me wonder why I am wasting my time on something that is not going to happen. He obviously didn't want anything from me besides friendship and 'the alligator'. That's fine with me since I didn't give it up to him. This has been coming for a minute. Anyway that is all about all of that.

I guess that is all. Oh wait. Remember Dillon, my 'friend' from New Orleans? Yea, so he came here to visit me and I woke up to him touching my special no-no. I'm sorry but that does not sit well with me. Needlesstosay (Which is a term that I never understood mainly because if it were needlesstosay you wouldn't have to say it, but I digest.) I am no longer talking to him. Okay that is all.

Later Consuela.