Trey and Vince are gone. The noise level is back to somewhat normal. Now I am sitting here chatting with a friend I haven't chatted with in a couple of months. The twins are playing video games and Dylan is bugging me to paint but we have no paint. My kitchen floor is mopped, the kitchen is clean. Dinner is in the crock pot. Paul should be home in about an hour, depending on traffic. (interuption for tantrum throwing)
I need a vacation. On a secluded beach (think "The Beach"). With a bottle of rum and an ounce of smoke. And of course the coke (cola) to go with the bottle of rum and the papers to smoke the weed. And a really good book. With a hammock in the shade. S.E.C.L.U.D.E.D. And an endless supply of munchies. George. Hugh. Orlando. Brad. Mine all mine. My preetty. My pre-shioouussss.