Bored

Bored. Sick of reading. Not terribly excited about blogging 'cause I just typed up 30 pages of Satanic Panic stuff and am probably well on my way to Carpal Tunnel. Tried to do a diarama of a cartoon picture I drew, "Waiting for Bingo", but I'm finding it's more difficult than I imagined to make a tiny Formica table with household junk. Don't even get me started on the velvet Elvis painting. I'm playing Dracula Resurrected in fits & starts - I don't know how to knock out the toothless bridge-keeper, so I'm stuck at the inn while Mina gets sucked dry, or whatever. I'm listening to a Bill Hicks CD I've heard so many times I can follow along with each "hyuck-huck". The TV listings features such gems as World's Biggest Face Tumor and JonBenet Ramsey: The E! True Hollywood Story. Um, she was six. What can you say about a 6-year-old? "She was preternaturally gifted with crayons and knew all her ABCs"? Besides, what does that have to do with Hollywood?

Might as well go to bed.