Meghan Wiemer: Professional. Just a pro. In just about everything. Just. Justin. This just in: A nice fellow named Justin was texting me for awhile, but I had no energy to keep up with his texts. I had no energy (or courage) to meet up for dinner. Will this be the mistake of the century? Was Justin my soulmate? Well, guess what, kittens? I don't believe in soulmates. Or maybe I do, but I believe that we could all be each other's soulmates depending on when and where we meet. In other words, there is no one perfect person. Aside from Santa Jesus. This post took a nose dive directly after "Meghan Wiemer: Professional."
Nosedive or no nosedive, I must continue! I cannot get used to typing on this computer, which is the size of a king size candy bar. Sure, that's a large Krackle, but my oh my that's a teeny general-purpose device that can be programmed to carry out a set of arithmetic or logical operations automatically. Yes, it is. But enough about my candy bar computer -- more about Krackle. Do people still eat Krackle? I mean, of course they do. If it's around. If it's just sitting there on a lonely, cold operating table, someone (probably someone not under general anesthesia) will most likely pick it up and enjoy it for the seven seconds it's in their warm, wet mouth. But does anyone just get an unbearable craving for a Krackle? So unbearable that nothing, not even the WORST SNOW STORM OF 2015, will stop them? They get into their frozen car with the bald tires and defy death just to get their Krackle fix. They've hit rock bottom, but man does it feel good.
Hi, I'm back. I promise to write less about Krackle and Justin and Justin's obsession with Krackle in the future. Weird how the future will never happen, though, huh? Now now now. Won won won. We've won! We've won the prize of an all-expenses paid vay-cay to Now. Enjoy it while you can be it'll only last forever.
You know what, maybe I should give you guys (and girls) (and cats) (and Santa Jesuses) a break from my incoherent ramblings. I'll be back, though! So grab a coffee and a Krackle and prepare yourself. Yourselves. You. Do you even exist? Only right now. Lucky you.