Ug.  I had five oscar-meyer hotdogs for breakfast this morning.
It's a sad story.  The landlord decided that about the time I wake up
would be the ideal time to turn off my water.  Since my grandparents were
out of town, I went over to their house about a block away.  It was the
only thing in their fridge that looked edible for breaskfast.  Oh, my
head.  Oh, my stomach.  It feels like they're fermenting or something.
Oh, I HATE myself.  I don't even LIKE hotdogs.  What have I done?  Someone
shoot me.  Ug.