I Need Frosting. Vegan Frosting.

It's 2:19am. Or 02:19 hours for the military set. And I am TIRED. Silly tired. Tired like I might try to get to the upper floors of the bio labs and free the rats. ALL OF THE RATS.

"Flee my furry brethren! Run! Run from this life of testing and bad pelleted food! Rush as fast as your little pink toes will carry you to Old Main, where we will take over the President's Office, have a sit in, and groom one another!"

THAT kind of silly. The kind of silly where eating Smarties until the inside of your mouth is raw and your heart rate is about 220 sounds like a great idea... Stick two pixie stix up each nostril and snort really hard kind of silly... strike up a conversation with the homeless woman in the lab breezeway kind of silly.

Long-time readers will recognize this brand of silly. It's the BS37 kind of silly.

Yes, I have returned to my nocturnal haunt of BS37, the all night computer lab. I am a user this time, but it's still pretty much the same cast of characters. The sleepy, the procrastinators, the foreign students... I must confess, however, that it's just not the same without Pretty Russian Girl.

If you don't know who Pretty Russian Girl is, ju got some archive searchin' to do, Lucy... you must know the Pretty Russian Girl, so you can know the angst of the late night labbie, who sits and admires her, but never actually talks to her. Because he is lame.

Actually, tonight's labbie is a hulking brute who clearly doesn't trust me. He keeps looking at me, like I'm suddenly going to pour water on the keyboard, light my shoe on fire, and start spouting verses from the Koran. I should, just to fuck with him.

I did meet a cute girl tonight, actually. And I talked to her even. She was nice, even if she did think I had some bizarre condition caused by the unholy union of tourettes and leprosy... and a goiter.

I'm having some self-esteem issues right now, ok? Just let it go. Just fuck it - let's get some pop rocks at the mini mart. No matter how bad I feel about myself, the sad fucker working at the mini mart at this time of night is feeling worse.

I started this post with an idea. It is gone now. Like so many good ideas that I have, it got lost in the slush pile inside my head. It will lay there, like an undiscovered Harry Potter manuscript, until some editor (oh yeah, my head has editors - doesn't yours?) needs something to read while he sits on the can.

I got an email from a seriously old skool Flocker, just a bit ago. We talked about Evil Dead and I made dick jokes - it was just like old times. I'm not sure if that's comforting or disturbing...

So... time for sleep. Sleep is for the weak. The weak get no cookies. Mmmmmm cookies... We have Oreos at home. Oreos are vegan. I'm a vegan. We have so much in common, Oreos and I...

It's 2:38. The rats can't wait much longer.



LOOK! They're NAKED!