"Yep, he's definitely captured...or dead."

"Captured, or dead."

*gasp*

"Or captured and dead!"

I suddenly don't feel so good. If Jeff has passed on whatever horrid disease that made him miss Christmas to me, I'm going to be rather upset.

I've written a Buffalo Article. I can't upload it.

When I can manage to yell at Bluedomino, it'll be available. I'll summarize it for now though. Buffalo sucks.

I got it uploaded. Find it here.

Well, that went well...but I have to figure out how to make sticky rice. I mean, for the love of all that's holy, I had to use a fork! A FORK!

J eats me. Loves it.

"Deaf dogs can't speak."

"Hey Chris, it looks like we got a letter."

"I wish my nose looked like a penis."

"Pedro? Where are you Pedro?"

"New Fish condoms. Cuz they're just gonna end up smelling like one anyways."

The last 4 or 5 days are an utter blur.

Food Poisoning: Not so fun.

Approximate length of time I can fail to notice that I'm tuned into Teletino, before I figure out that I really am hearing voices I can't understand somewhere:

3 hours