The other night, I went to bed with a stomach that was much too full. As a result, I spent the night acid refluxing into the bottom of my esophagus. The next day, I went to Rob's and told everyone about it. Rob looked at me and said, "Yeah, that's heartburn." As soon as he said it, I realized that it was, indeed, heartburn. Heartburn wasn't a word that I would have ever thought to use, though. It was very clearly a stomach problem; my heart felt just fine. That's what they get for not letting me make the words, I guess.

The dog walking thing isn't working out quite like I thought it would. The ad's been in the paper since Sunday, and I haven't gotten any calls. I didn't bother to make my standard two or three back-up plans, because I assumed that someone somewhere would need a dog walked. I'm not sure what I'll do if this falls through. I suppose I could go out and get a real job, but that's why I decided to walk dogs: I hate the thought of having a real job.

I burned a moe. cd last night, and it does about the strangest thing I've ever seen. I guess it can't tell where the ends of the tracks are, because it'll play track one, then go to track two, but the display still says it's on track one, and the time just keeps going up. It'll play the whole CD like that, and once it reaches the end, it goes back, starts at track two, and repeats. Also, I'm pissed because for some reason, only the first two minutes of Buster got burned. That's just enough time for you to really get into it before it stops.

Oh, what else is going on? Well, my column with Rob seems to be going pretty well. We keep getting more and more replies on the message board. It's aggrivating, though. If you've never read the other articles, most of them (dare I say, all of them but Rob and me) are crap. Complete crap. Almost completely devoid of thought, and showing no respect for the art of language. And all get high marks from the operator of the site, Yeahgrmstr. Rob and I take the time to make a thoughtful, well written article on a regular schedule, and we get nothing from him. Not a word. It almost makes me want to send him an email saying, "HoW dArE yOu NoT tHiNk We RoXx??!?!?! Ph34R mE aNd My ©®ë//!!!!!!!!111"

Jared got back from Puerto Rico last night. Hi Jared!

And Jill, I got the error message.

I guess that's about it. The title is just a reminder to me about an essay I was thinking about writing last night. If I ever get around to writing it, I'll be sure to put it up here.

Later.