Sleep Terrors!

Well, tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. I have to pitch my script to like three producers. Right now I feel like I'm going to throw up. This is so not cool. I'm all antsy like a little girl who's having an affair with her teacher and doesn't want her mom to find out. That's exactly how I am. Except instead of me being a girl and having an affair with a teacher I'm nervous because what happens tomorrow could have strong bearing on what happens to me for the rest of my life. I'm bad with analogies. I'll have to work on that.

So, I think I have my pitch memorized, but not so much so that it sounds like Vicki from Small Wonder is giving it. Wait a minute! I wonder what Tiffany Brissette is up to. I'm sure with a little searching online I can find her telephone number. It would go over really well I'm sure.

Me: And now, to present my story, please welcome Vicki!

(cue theme music: "She's fantastic, made of plastic...")
(Now thirty-years old, dressed in the same red and white dress, she stares straight ahead.)

Vicki (all monotone and roboty): Thank you. Once again, a big hand for Kurt.

(It gets all green-screen looking and her hand blows up all big. Everybody laughs, a few even cry because they laugh so hard.)

I think that could happen.

I wish I could just fast-forward life until tomorrow at like 9:30 when I'm sitting in class, my pants soiled, totally relaxed because it's all over. If I was a drug-taking man I'd be all over some of whatever helps people sleep. I heard that heroine is good for that, or hookers.

And now I'm just writing more so I can pass the time. If anybody reads this tonight, drop a comment and I'll give you directions to my house and you can come over and put me to sleep. Especially if you're reading this and you're a horse. This is for two reasons: 1) You're a horse that can read and I'd like to meet you. 2) You probably have horse tranquilizers. 3) There isn't a third reason, that's why I said for two reasons.

To top it all off, I didn't make the cheer squad!

There's always next year.

No there isn't. This is it, my senior year. My mom spent like 500 dollars buying me all my cheer stuff and now I have to return it? Life isn't fair!

Interesting thought of the day:
Every time a girl farts, a man loses an erection.
Think about it, ladies.

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