We are the Pirates Who Don't Do Anything

I've been trying to blog a new post (post a new blog) for hours. Nothing I starts gets more than a paragraph (short paragraph) or two in before I discard it. This is ridiculous. Because of my blogblock, you all are now welcome to know some interesting points about my life. Because I need to post something.

Our study smells like syrup, cat pee, or flowers. One of those.

The beta fish right next to me was flipping out just now - literally. Flipping out and in the water of his bowl.

I have discovered my love of the forties. The forties in England.

There is a Salsa Dance Party going on next door right now.

Jessie and I just watched the season finale to the first season of Doctor Who with the eleventh doctor. Still haven't seen the most recent one. It's driving me crazy.

I have been trying to get my scanner to work for TWO WEEKS at LEAST and it is still being absolutely unresponsive to any of my requests. I may light it on fire. Legit.

The song playing right now is "The Most Beautiful Girl in the Room"

There will be ten days until Christmas as of 28 minutes from me writing this.

No seriously, if you didn't see anything wrong with that, reread that song title.

My arm still hurts from ladling mashed potatoes for two hours yesterday. I consider that pathetic.