Shit. I really ought to be in bed, resting up for district auditions, which are tomorrow morning. I've got to be there by 8:00ish, and I'm riding with Sterling, which means I'll probably be there by noon.

But damn, am I in a good mood. District will be easy. I could walk in there with a harmonica and a triangle and get a higher rank than some of the people that try out. People tell me I've got a great voice. It really, really makes me happy to hear that. I rarely get compliments on my achievements. Thanks, Mary, and Julia. And Natalie Ball. Just don't let me get conceited. Let me save being a bastard for after I make Allstate.

And Larkin left me in a great mood tonight. Poor thing was positively drained of all energy, so after coming home from Once Upon a Time in Mexico, we took a nap, and I sent her home at 11:30. Such a comfy thing she is. Her company elates me more than hamachi with spicy mayonnaise and the most beautiful, shimmering saba put together. No matter what state she's in. She could be suicidal and on the brink of nervous breakdown, swaying around from exhaustion, hyperactive after a venti cup of Tazo Cocaine, or infuriated at the human race's incompetence and all doctrines considered to be good in this world, and I'd be right along side her, crying or grinning or worshipping Satan.

So yeah. The only thing Kleinforums is good for anymore is replying to stupid posts about ramen noodles.

"Yes- Ichiban is the best brand. However, I wouldn't recommend making a full diet out of the little packaged, pre-cooked bastards. They're tasty with some oregano, togarashi, chopped vegetables, an egg, and maybe some fish, but they've got enough sodium to make a man's circulatory system dissolve ceramic toilets. Go learn to read a cookbook, then go buy yourself some weirdass Asian stuff, muster up all your courage and sense of adventure, and throw it into a pot."

--Me