I think the state of despondency that I am in over the mass grave of my lost earrings symbolizes the fact that I lose EVERYTHING, and it's just a problem. Seriously, I haven't even done my taxes yet because I can't find my damned W2s. PROBLEM. What am I going to do with myself? I have been trying to organize my life since birth. I guess I will just keep trying. And failing. Now I'm going to spend tomorrow calling up H&Ms throughout Northeast America to try to find another pair because, damnit, I'm not going to let this keep happening to me! I'm losing my damned mind. And I want that damned earring back. Shit.
In other news: HILARIOUS NEWS STORY OF THE DAY (completely unrelated to earring dilemma, thankfully)
Yeah. I just remember him being so big'n'Cajun that he would ride around his kitchen in a Jazzy Scooter while frying up some Catfish Donuts or something. Well, perhaps the Jazzy Scooter was an invention of my imagination. But, apparently, he is IMPERMEABLE TO BULLETS. Way to go, Prudhomme. You may not be able to see your feet, but you are evidently IMMORTAL. Keep on livin' the diabetic's dream, my large friend.