The Chronic, pt. II

Well, Sean, it seems as though your comment on my last post has influenced my subconscious, as last night I had a dream about rockin' the ganja with you and Cole. Don't know why I'm dreaming about weed lately, but I think that for now I shall stick to my good ol' G&T's and Guinness.

Not a whole helluva lot exciting going on. The Jeanners and I looked at a few more houses today. Nothing's grabbing us by the balls yet, though. Although we have signed a paper that ends the lease on our current apartment at the end of August, so that adds the potentially stressful element of a deadline into the whole process. Joy.

We both have the day of tomorrow. What shall we do? Monticello, anyone?

My farts smell like crabcakes. Crabcakes from a fiery, sulfurous hell.