Sweet leaping porkchops, people. My boobs hurt. Enough that it woke me up all night long and kept interrupting my Alias/Anne Heche/Trapped in a Local Mall dream. Actually, that dream sucked anyway because there was no making out going on anywhere. Booooring.
This whole procreating thing has been a two year slog of not being able to sleep on my stomach. First there was the boob hurtage and then the huge bellyness and then the flat inability to roll over due to being cut open (and then sewn shut again, obviously) and then the trying to sleep with a small person who I preferred not to smush chewing on my boobs and now again with the boob hurtiness. I may refuse to ever have another child just so I can sleep on my stomach again. (And no, that is not what you voted on. I love you guys and all, but you do not get to decide that.)
Anyway, this is just a long intro to telling you that if you are going to send a picture (which I will post, keep in mind) to win a cd, you had better hurry it right up because they are just pouring in. Ok, trickling in, but I still recommend all good haste. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, scroll down.
Happy Friday, all. I would invite you all over to make out, but my boobs hurt.