I'm feelin' tragic like I'm Gary Busey.

I am so tired.

I hardly got any sleep last night and I have been up since about 6:30, and I don't mean to complain, but I had a dentist appointment this morning because I lost a filling, and I was lucky because I called for the appointment this morning and they must have had a cancellation do to the snow we had last night and I was able to get an appointment for an hour after I called, and then I stopped at the post office and mailed the cards and stuff that I said I was going to mail, and did I mention that I had the filling replaced without any novicane, and I am really very tired, and the bird that mocks me is squawking away like she owns the place, and I think I'm going to take a nap, but I'll probably turn the tv on, and as soon as I fall asleep I'll get a phone call from someone who isn't a telemarketer, but who really is, and I'll hang up on whoever it is, and just about fall back asleep again, and then my nephew will call me on has way to work on the afternoon shift, and he'll quiz me on my trip to LA, and he'll ask me if I still have all my organs because he was sure that's why dvl and her family lured me out there for in the first place, and no, it isn't the nephew who warned me to stay away from the ganja while I was in LA, but it might as well have been, because right about now all my nephews are all sort of merging into one ... yeah.

Tags: the conscience of bu…