I'm Following Vernon...He's my Messiah

Gotta love that Bill Hicks. (Buy Rant in E Minor if you want to make your bitter self laugh. All his CDs are good, but I require at least one listen to the Willie Nelson IRS song a day for max performance.

It really shouldn't be sandal weather in January in Nashville, but I'm milking the shit out of it.

So I unloaded the Skeksis-free van last night. My apartment is crowded again, mostly with laundry that needs to be laundered and sorted, and like as not given to Goodwill.

I donated over $500 worth of clothes and appliances to Goodwill last year, and I still have too much stuff. I don't get it. I think my t-shirts are performing eugenics experiments or something.

I did find my Resplendent Muumuu, just so the BUSTies know. It's baaaaaaack!

Damn, I hate having nothing to say. Here's some pointless info:

What I'm Wearing: thong sandals, one-off comfy jeans, Chairman Meow shirt, burgundy bra that I would like to burn because of its sheer pointlessness, dreadlock ponytail.

What I'm (Re)Reading: The Idiot Girl's Action-Adventure Club: True Tales from a Magnificent and Clumsy Life,by Laurie Notaro, because I don't feel up for anything in the least serious. She's not my favorite writer, but I'm glad there are other people out there who feel stupid for some of the same reasons as me, most of the time. Although on my worst day, I think I was a better drunk than she.

The 411: Artist asleep in my bed, orange cat and kitten each in a laundry pile, Middle Kitty on the coffee table.