Maybe I should change my name to Insomnia Woman, with my super-power being able to avoid sleep and still appear the same as I usually do. I swear my eyeballs feel like they are about to fall out of my sockets and dribble down my face leaving a slimy trail of blood behind. Don't I paint a wonderful image first thing on a Sunday morning?
I have spent the night watching made-for-t.v. movies and now fully understand why they were t.v. rather than box office. The hero of the current movie is a larger man who has just shown a good size butt-crack as he miraculously escapes the runaway train by climbing onto a helicopter. I think that the writers of this particular movie have aimed to include just about every cliché imaginable. So far we have had the misbehaving son clashing with the new step-mother after the mother has passed away, the runaway train itself, the step-mom's secret pregnancy, the college football hero who fucked up on national t.v. going through his rebuilding-of-character moment, the engineer falling off the train (drama moment!). Then we had the dad saving the day by persuading the company not to derail the train in order to prevent it plowing into the hospital. I think I am actually worn out with clichés.
Well, my mp3 player is now fully charged so I am going to attempt a little sleep; assuming that damn pigeon shuts up, that is. I wonder if pigeons understand the threat of a crossbow bolt in their feathery arse...
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