I would go out tonight but I haven't got a stitch to wear

I really have nothing to write about, but here I go.

I was just watching the Travel Channel. They did a story on a place called Ted's. They make steamed burgers; it looked good to me, but then again my pallet isnt that discriminating and I hide my true self and write under the name Le Fig.

What's in my head right now? Glad you asked.

Oh, I need to go on a road trip--and I need a car, and I need to learn how to drive.

Le Fig also needs proper sentence structure. Ol' Miss Run-On Sentence herself, I tend to
write like the way a tweaked coke bunny talks--fast, occasionally funny and I do go on, way past my usefulness.

You know what I was thinking about: wine coolers--remember those hideous
drinks? When you want to drink but can't fully commit, or you couldn't find a way to get your hands on the hard stuff and Bartles and James had to suffice. How many of us had fake
ID's? Does The College of Arts and Crafts ring a bell? God bless 1986-era 42nd Street; you could get drugs, a prostitute, a fake ID and see a kung fu movie--kinda like a one stop shop.
A Wal-Mart of scum, so to speak.

Let me tell you a deep dark secret--I used to be a fan of Miss Piggy. I had the doll/puppet; I could make her talk. "Miss Piggy, you're so cool; how do I get to be like you ?'' "Well, dip shit, first take your hand out of my ass; stop talking to an imaginary friend and take off those Miss Piggy sneakers--it's just plain weird."

How odd: a little Jewish kid worshiping a pig.