The downside to dating a chronic joker: April 1st.

First thing he did when he came in the door: "I - I think we should see," ruined by laughter, "other people." To which I responded, "get over here dumb ass."

And all day it was bad April Fools jokes like that. By the way, to the gents who may read or be reading this blog, April Fools jokes? During sex? Not cool.

But stuff was happening today that made me feel like I should be going "um ... April fools? Hahaha...hah?" First off, my friend Sam in Okiehoma got in a car wreck last night. Life-flashed-before-her-eyes sort of car wreck. Air-bag-gone-off-a-second-later-she'd-be-dead sort of car wreck. She woke me to call me and tell me. She's lucky the date didn't register with me cos it would have taken her FOREVER to convince me it actually happened. Fortunately she's not too badly beat up; her left arm's pretty banged and she had some post-trauma ness and maybe even a little whiplash it sounded like, but still pretty fucking freaky.

Then, I don't know if anybody's been reading my uber long "this is everything that's on my mind" posts lately, but I talked about having two friends that just didn't talk and it appeared to be all rumor mill bullshit. Well, they made up at some point over the weekend and they're gonna try to rekindle the friendship. I'm insanely happy for them, but I was still expecting God to pop out of a gopher hole and go "OH MY GOD, JUST KIDDING!"

My bottom holes from my wisdoms ... I can only describe the taste as being "everything I've eaten since I got them pulled ... plus the taste of wounds and stitches." Eventually the pain will be gone though. Eventually.

Oh, and for the first time in awhile I had a nightmare last night. Something about a bus turning into a children's mental ward and then one of the children merging into my body as I screamed in pain and then me waking up trying to push a pillow off me. Maybe I'm over doing the Silent Hill addiction? The boy's convinced I just want children.

Yes, honey ... I want psychotic children who live in the back of a Greyhound, especially one who acts as a human metal detector. All I wanted to do in the dream was ski, too. Bastard subconscious, fucking with my skiing.

So my mom got in a car accident. I wasn't there, but I got some pictures when she got home.


Guy tried to turn from a center lane, the guy had a truck with a trailer on the end, the trailer hit her and shoved her into the curb. Didn't stop for a fair amount of time.


When the cops got there, they insisted that if she filled out a report, it'd be her fault. They filled a report out anyway, but refused her a copy. She also believes the guy had no registration, since he had one of those papers in the window that said 06 in big letters on it. Basically, they treated the other guy like a big strong man, and her like a stupid bitch. Her words, not mine.

She thinks that in addition to the aesthetic damage that the axle is off now, too. Bye-bye, new car!