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2007-11-27 - 5:43 a.m.

The Early Bird Can Bite My Ass

I

CAN'T

SLEEP.

Had you been a fly on my bedroom wall, you would've witnessed me rolling about from side to side, sighing and stretching and making "num num" noises.

You would've also seen me burrow my face into SweetPea's fur, then trace the curls on her back, whispering sleepily that they looked like waves of cake frosting.

Then there was the glorious hour where I sat up in a half-trance, lit an apple cinnamon candle and smoked cigarettes while watching "The Outer Limits." Cool. Futuristic shit.

The breaking point came when I found myself listening to an episode of the X-Files for the second time on TiVo.

The dogs were conked out, and not, you know, awake, for one of my "your real momma" stories.

They usually go something like this:

"When you were born, OH MY GOODNESS, your momma was soooooo happy and knew you were gonna be a handful. Oh yes. She knew alright. You were her precious little angel. Yes you were. The sweetest and sassiest of the bunch. Uh huh. Absolutely."

Then it trails off to "she'd be so delighted you found a good home," and "your brothers and sisters miss you" and "did you know your daddy? Prolly not, but I'm sure he was a good guy", blah blah.

They seem to enjoy these stories, even sometimes picking up their heads and giving me that "really? you mean it?" look, although sometimes I wonder if they're really thinking "This fucking story? AGAIN? Jesus, you're a nutcase, woman."

At any rate, they were too snookered for my usual ramblings, so I crept out of bed and decided to bore the shit out of you people. Somebody's gonna be asleep soon, and it probably won't be ME.

I drank about eleven-thousandy-basquillion Diet Cokes today (could that be the reason I can't sleep?) so I am eschewing caffeine at the moment. Popped open a beer. It's a delayed partay. Woot woot, if you will.

Hey, when does "Good Morning America" come on? I think the only way I could tolerate watching it is by being buzzed.

And for our next segment, Anne Simmons-Shepard will take us to Bipsquick, Idaho for the 8th Annual Antique Belt Buckle Show.

(Camera pans to 3 people standing outside the studio in the freezing cold with YAY BIPSQUICK! signs).

At this point, I will loudly exclaim "Pfffffttttt!" and crush an empty beer can on my forehead.

If that doesn't put me out, I don't know what will.