Yum.

The remnants at the bottom of the coffee pot have been reducing for nearly four hours now, concentrating themselves into a bitter syrup. I'm drinking it anyways. Such is the life of an addict.

I desperately need new clothes for winter. I'm not much of a shopper, but I opened my closet today to find polo after polo, with a hoodie or two mixed in. Most of the nicer clothes I own have been stolen from my brother (who made the fatal mistake of leaving them behind on his way to Canada), but it's about time I start getting my own things. So if anyone wants to dress me - preferably before it gets too cold - I'm too skinny to not own sweaters - give me a holler. Apparently this year's theme is stripes. I've been looking on all of the usual suspects' websites, and that's all I can find. "Prison chic," I think they call it. Or maybe I just made that up.

I've decided that in the interest of not collapsing from an aneurysm as I angrily pound the keyboard, today's posts will be politics free. Unless something big happens. No, today will be spent on the couch with the football game.

Lukewarm coffee is still the worst. (Again, still drinking it.)

So...uh...waste of a post.