The Zoo over Ambuscade Street

Dear My Car:

You don't have a flat tire. I don't care how fervently you beep and flash your little "flat tire" light at me, I'm not going to believe you this time. I checked said tires no fewer than five times on the way home. I checked the air pressure twice. You don't have a flat tire. Really.

Also, going to the grocery store for life-saving drugs is a Bad Idea when you're suffering from the lack of said drugs. I spent far too much money on utterly bizzare things. I put back the pomegranites, at least...all four of them. This should give you an idea of how bizzare it was unloading my groceries. But! They had honeycrisp apples again, and cherries, so I shall have a fruit orgy tonight. It will be wonderful.

Also, I look freaking hot in my corset. Although a pair of cargo pants and a bright green shirt probably aren't the best things to wear it over. Did I mention that I look freaking hot in my corset? Because I really do. And if *I'm* saying that about myself, you know it has to be true.

Also, Drama Queen owns my soul. Excuse me while I go wipe the drool off my book. Damn! Rachan...if you buy one smutty graphic novel this year, it must be Brother. The same goes for any other rabid fangirls out there. TRSI even has it on sale until Wednesday night.

Sleep now. Drugged sleep. After the fruit orgy. While I wear my new corset. This sounds so much more risque than it really is.