What is this day? Sunday?

yeah, that sounds right. Slept in, well, tried. Stupid sunlight came into my room and kept waking me up.
It's Mother's Day today. I got my mom a shirt. It was orange and stripey and shiney. Not much going on.
Watched Survivor. I was rootin' for Aras. w00t! Go Yoga man!
I liked Shane too. He was nutz. His blueberry episode was hil-ar-ious. So was the one with his chafing issues.
Bruce was good too. Bruce Lee the kung-fu art teacher!
Oh, this is a little sad.
My scabby hole in my leg was looking particularly nasty this morning. The bandaid had kept the moisture in and the scab had turned into this green goo stuff. It was sick. I put the guaze and bandage back on because they breathe better and it solidified back up into a lovely red scab. It was a beautiful metimorphosis, like disgusting ooze from someone's head that's just been blown off turns into oozing snot, . . . kind of a catterpillar to butterfly type thing.
Ah, yes, the wonders of the human scab.
--- I'm gonna be Going Postal for a bit, now, m'kay?