Yesterday my pants told me, "You are beautiful." I said, "Aww, how sweet." At least someone thinks so, even if its only my pants.

The pants i am wearing right now are not just pants, they are Pants. i have never owned a pair of jeans that i felt so good in. They are already torn, and that makes them even better. i didn't tear them. But i still should have gotten a discount. Jeans never ever fit me right, and it drives me crazy. Maybe if my hips weren't quite so large i'd be able to find some pants that fit the way i want them to. Oh well. One pair of jeans out of ten isn't so bad.

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Here is a poem i did not write:

The Suicide, as she is falling,
Illuminated by the moon,
Regrets her act, and finds appalling
The thought she will be dead so soon

-Edward Gorey

She overcame her fear of falling, only to fear landing. Ah, satire. How i love it so.