i'm watching a movie and not at all tired. need to cut the after dinner coffee. that will suck, it's like dessert.
the other day i responded to an lj friend with a requested faux memory of her and i together. and i wrote something about high heels and french police. but if i thought about writing something of fiction, some short story, possibly about high heels and french police, my brain seizes up like sylvester's mouth with alum in it. yeah, that was back when looney toons cartoons were still violent. and words like 'alum' meant something.
ooh, i forgot the collage i started. i placed everything and forgot to glue it down. i should go do that before i forget i laid it out and just scoop the stuff off of it to move it.