i guess i got a little drunk last night with some people from work. three 22-oz. beers and no dinner will do that to a girl. ops!
just before i woke up, i was dreaming about greg kinear, ewan mcgregor and robert knepper in some sort of bare-knuckle boxing slash ultimate fighting match. (hey, who remembers slash? that bitch still owes me a dollar.) i don't actually know what greg kinear looks like, but i've heard the name and the announcers were definitely referring to him as such. it started out just kinear and mcgregor. they were making coversation while they boxed and whatnot. once knepper joined in, kinear and mcgregor ended up getting kneed in the groins. this got mcgregor thoroughly riled; he hugged kinear at the waist and lifted him off the ground. he reared his head back. the announcer--john morgan from cool runnings, i believe--said, "oh! what's this? i cant' believe it! i think he's making glass." mcgregor head-butted kinear somewhere in the hip or possibly groin and let him go, where he laid limp in a oozing puddle of vomit and loose stool.
i think i'm going to start hanging out at the library down the street. i went in the other night to look for a movie and remembered how much i love those places.
i'm so effing hungry. damn it. i want some pumpkin pie. immediately.
i should put together some sort of scrapbook about hawaii to take to dinner today. hmm.