I would rather be playing my game, really

The last few weeks have been so action packed that I haven't nutured my blog, which I beat myself up for every day that I had a spare moment to post but didn't because I am a lazy ass and because I just discovered a cool online game that I am officially addicted to (multiple addictions = less postage). So since I am not allowed to download this super awesome rpg on the work desktop (boss can't appreciate a good game) and since I just completed a good chunk of homework that is due next week, I can finally post.

...only I have no clue as to what I want to talk about. I forgot my notes at home.

Yes, I am one of those. You know, the blogger that only finds inspiration when my laptop isn't handy, like when I'm at the movies or on the toilet, and end up having to write things down before I forget, but when I finally get the time to sit down and write, I end up losing  gasp of all of the pent up motivation and just play video games instead. Yeah, I'm committed.

I can recall one thing that I wrote on the list after receiving a text from Michael about the status of his pants. This did not just happen once, but it is becoming a habit of his to text me the wearabouts of his pants, whether they are being worn or being stripped away. I do not know what to expect next.

"Pants status: Off"

"Pants status: On"

Maybe I should start texting him the status of my hormones, because God knows that is ever changing, and I don't want to text him the status on my pants because there would be nothing to update. I live in Texas. Fuck pants. Plus, any text with the implication of clothing being removed would be torture for a sailor who hasn't got any since last year. Poor guy. Poor me. Poor pants. Poor hormones.

Poor readers for having to endure this post. I'll stop now.