The seagulls outside keep making me think I am getting a text message (my message toe is seagulls and NOT, as -gen- suggested, girls being raped).
Chris won't come and play music with me.
My boiled eggs cracked in the pan, filling the water with smelly egg froth and making the yolks disappointingly hard boiled.
I have nothing to do tonight and two things that I have to choose between tomorrow.
I have a productive cough.
My bathroom needs a damn good clean.
The new Kristin Hersh album is awfully good.