Monday's random tidbits of magic

Another energy drink propping my head up this afternoon. I've been kind of on a hedonistic bender these past few weeks, so my weekends aren't really all that restful, and what with me being an insomniac who compulsively does word puzzles in bed every night, I don't really get to sleep at a decent hour and I am ALWAYS TIRED. One day I will have babies and I will not be able to breastfeed because I will be afraid of passing on the massive amounts of taurine (yum!) I will need to keep me awake because they are crying all night for me to feed them. A vicious, vicious cycle. I would probably also have to quit drinking every night. Perhaps someone like me should not reproduce. -In honor of re-watching my copy of Wandy Sykes' Sick and Tired with my Pal N yesterday, here is a magical clip: I must give credit to Feministing, where I first saw this and was inspired to financially support the Wanda by buying her DVD. N and I had to first go for an energy drink run before we could sit and watch something for an hour and a half, despite the hilarity: I was hungover, and her new kitties had kept her awake all night. Energy drinks only cut your life expectancy in half for every 12 of them you drink every three days or so, right? -My Best TV Friend Forever (BTVFF) Ka$h likes to do about three main things with the newspaper: 1. Pick out the most horrifying stories she can find (you know, the ones I avoid by only looking at the "Living" section) and reading the depressing/gruesome details to me despite my vocal objections. 2. Discuss with me how much we hate today's Pluggers and/or Pajama Diaries. 3. Go to the "Wisconsin news" section, and find the stories that make our neighbors to the east look the worst, and then read the stories to our Wisconsinite roommates in an attempt to shame and humiliate them. Well, I got caught up on QuizLaw today, and saw they had updated everybody on our favorite recent-ish story from Wisconsin: NECROPHILIACS HUZZAH! The ones who dug up the dead girl, not any of the ones who killed deers to fuck. Still, though: Wisconsin: Land of America's Truest Values. Like bars every 15 feet. And creepy sexual fetishes. -And on that note: I sat around a "camp" (in a backyard firepit thingy) fire over the weekend and we made s'mores. Hooray! Of course, when retrieving my jeans from the floor the next morning, I realized that a) that spot on the floor was exactly where I had spilled my re-hydration water glass at some point during the night and b) I had gotten melted marshmallow all over the left leg. Then I proceeded to wear these pants into public. People with hangovers have no need for you and your middle-class "cleanliness" standards. Nope, not when there is bacon to be consumed.