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.