Going Home, Dragging My Bag Behind Me

Now, now I’m sad.  And I’m so tired.  I slept like hell.  My parents are on their way here.  I need to call and see if we’re meeting at the hotel or at our house.  And I’m in the “they all suck” stage when I look at stuff on Realtracs.

Waaah.  They all suck.

Oh well.  What can you do? I, myself, will finally hit publish on this thing and go home.

I wonder if we shouldn’t just build a house made out of sod.

Or out of the surviving members of 70s hard rock bands…

That would be finally putting Neil Peart to good use…