Welcome to the jungle

I'm an orphan. Well, a married, puppy-owning orphan. The rents have gone to go-Far to visit nu-Ma, the wee-bro and le Bec is loving Paris, which leaves me here in a no-phone-call state of Zen.

Complain I do not. Glee feel I not. Statement simply I make.

(Yeah, I'm feeling good tonight and will dispense with normal sentence structure. Yoda I will speak.)

If Britney can't keep it together, how can the rest of us? (Before you comment galore, I'm JUST KIDDING.) I threaten to shave my head, but it has become tolerable since growing past the mullet stage.

Punky watched a ton of 24 today, so I should go and catch up. Oy with the terrorism...

(Song lyric: Gun's N Roses. I could tell you that I'm not a fan, but that would only be part of the truth. I love the guitar player, Slash. Under his rock fro is a totally normal, non-druggie guy who holds up his end of the conversation. Fantastic. Also, during an endless stretch of WI in a car, Punky and I made up a WI tourist song to the tune of Jungle. "Welcome to Wisconsin, we've got lots of cheese...)