stop the madness

I am sick of working. I am not built for it. I need to find a rich, HOT, man to take care of me. Speaking of hot, there were a surprising number of cute men at cap city tonight. They were probably all gay, with my luck, but I was surprised at the turn out. This rant isn't going anywhere, by the way, I am still as single as I was when I left the house.
I am sick of the banner profiling via Blogger. I love Blogger...but, c'mon! At the top of my blog, it advertises for heart burn and flatulence deodorizer. Just because I talked on two posts about me ralphing all over the place and having a stomach ache doesn't mean that I qualify for gas-prone banners.
But it secretly makes me want to post about herpes and disabilities and alcoholism and gambling and random shit just to see what the banners will turn out to be. So don't be surprised if I am telling a story and all of a sudden "POPCORN" sits in the middle of a perfectly normal sentence. Or when talking about my lovely day I blurt out like terrets (which I know is spelled wrong...) "BICYCLES" or "VIAGRA" to see if the banner changes appropriately.
I had a lot to post originally...but I am in bed and friggen tired. I could be sleeping and could talk to myself without typing. I think I'll give that a shot for awhile, if it doesn't work so well, I'll come back and talk to mysef with a keyboard as the middleman.