Today's Sam's birthday.

I know we just had a party, maybe we should all go out and paint the town.

Have I really not written in this thing in like a month and a half? Jeeze.

It's because I've got nothing fun to say. Or to talk about. Too much drunken debauchery, thank you Harri and Cassie for that.

Having to consolidate all my stuff and make room? Ugh. This is like trying to get me to throw out things to move. It's just not working. Stupid pack rat habits.

Here. I know. Let's play a game called Dear Elisa. It's like Dear Abby. Ask me things. Advice or whatever you want.

I'll try and answer with some semblance of sanity.

I got a cake request today for a cake in the shape of a penis. Not just your average penis mold but rather not 3D or whatever, I'm talking about they want it to actually look like one, really look like one.

It's for some porn company. I guess they're having a party or something. Then I got told that if I wanted to, I could be in porn. I asked them how old they thought I was, and the girl said 30. I'm having a very good day.

And I'm home at 6 pm, which is wonderful.