I miss LJ, it was a great place to vent, and get up to date on other peoples boring lives. Personally, I don't like posting about my boring life, but when I have a story worth noting I'll post it. In case you're not the kind of person to read the mood icons people post, let me tell you I'm really tired right now. This is due to an experience of mine that took place about half an hour ago. After my late concert last night I had some trouble sleeping, and kept waking up then slowly drifting back into sleep. This morning, as I was drinking fruit smoothies with the kool-aid pitcher monster I was brought to a rude awakening by a tickle on my leg. You all know the feeling, when you wake up and you're not alone. When I woke up, I was not alone. There was for sure one of Satan's little friends caressing my right leg with it's 10 appendages searching for a soft spot, a weakness possibly my throat area for a place to initiate it's suprise attack and kill me. I thought fast, and ahead. I came the conclusion that the demon came to my bed to kill me, then lay it's eggs in my eyes and move on to it's next victim. I did what seemed natural, I screamed like a 13 year old girl being murdered. I screamed louder than that, fell out of bed and scrambled to my feet. Once I had my balance I immediatly started planning retalliation, I had the upper ground, but the bug had the element of suprise. This was no ordinary bug, obviously skilled in the art of warfare and probably trained professionally by al-queida, scientologists or some alien race from another dimension. I made my first move, and ripped off the first layer of covers revealing nothing, I struck again removing the second layer and still revealing nothing and made my final attempt to wipe the fiend from existence but alas, it had escaped. I've decided it had to have used some device exploiting quantum-teleportation to open a wyrmhole and retreat to it's layer. I know somewhere, this bug is still lurking planning it's next attack. I will not sleep, until I have it's head on a toothpick at the foot of my bed to serve as a warning to other archfiends who want to fuck with me.