Short, Sweet

Notes from Liz: not short, but always sweet.

I use the computer now more than I ever have. Now I understand the addiction to email; there's nothing worse than waiting for that important message. Did I get it? Did I
accidentally delete it? Could it be the message I've been waiting for? I've turned into a 14 year old girl waiting by the phone (gimme back my Duran Duran poster).

Years ago, I tried a chat room. Struck me as a bunch of teenage and mid-twenties douches trying to one up each other. Sorry, I have better things to do. Like what you ask? Maybe I'll watch a marathon of documentaries about crystal meth. There, I can find out how people buy the products on line, cook it up at home in their lovely double-wide trailers and proceed to sell and or smoke it all. At that point, you sit in your hole, surrounded by beer cans, porn, pizza boxes and the smell of rotted teeth. As you probably can tell, I watch too much of the Discovery Channel. Yes, I know far too much about bikers, speed and meth mouth.

Speaking of rotted teeth and public intoxication, I saw The Pogues on Sat. I must say they put on quite a good show, The band sounded great. Shane was, well, Shane, and the audience didn't try to use me as a battering ram or vomit on me. All in all, a good time.