(no subject)

I had a bad week, but I felt better by the time I went to bed because me and misspamela had played my favorite game, which is read Craigslist personal ads at each other until you're both laughing so hard you're probably going to puke. My favorite last night was probably the guy who was looking for dudes to come over for his fantasy gangrape "around eightish" (everyone knows 7 is just too early for that kind of thing, and by 9 on a Friday, who has the energy?) and MissP's was the 24 year old guy who wanted someone to come over and give him a blowjob while he played video games. ♥Craigslist.♥

Then I woke up ridiculously early and grabbed Midway, watched this video of Travis getting slobber on Patrick's Pomeranian, realized that Patrick got a trim and his sideburns done because he kept losing this itty-bitty dog in his hair, and laughed at my cats, whose idea of fun this morning included Sally pouncing on top of their kitty-tunnel while Jack was chilling in it, both of them freaking the fuck out when the tunnel collapsed, flying out/jumping off of it, FREAKING THE FUCK OUT when it popped back open, and coming to me for reassurance even though I was seriously laughing my ass off at them.

Now the two of them are sleeping in a box on the counter, completely worn out from being horribly cute. I've got to clean and hop in the shower, call my mom, hopefully get a haircut and go up to visit MissP, and then a friend is coming by tomorrow with alcohol and treats, and we're going to completely waste Sunday drinking and watching bad movies.

Weekends, how so awesome? Why can't you happen every day?