House Arrest

This is the pooiness of my life.

Trapped in the confines of the tiniest appartment in the history of appartments by a severly sprained ankle, which has ballooned to the size of a small goat. I hobble to the window and watch able-bodied people go about their lives and wish I could walk. I am at the mercy of slinky, ungrateful cat-child.

-C'mon Dru, fetch mommy the phone. C'mon baby. You can do it.

-Meoww.

-Well fine then I'll get it myself!

-Meoww.

The only good to come of all this is I've been forced to sit in one spot long enough (infront of the computer) to finally get together the motivation to start this blog. I don't know what this will lead to. Blogging is a slippery slop I hear, kind of like getting tattooes. As soon as you get the first one you start thinking about the next one, and the next one, and the next one after that. It's a gateway drug if I ever saw one. Coincidently I've decided to start three more blogs, provided I can think up three more clever titles.