In other non-potato news, I hate everyone. Especially myself, because I am dumb, dumb, dumb. I have socks that act more intelligent than I have been acting lately. As I’ve just been informed that John Lennon is in fact NOT dead.
Imagine that! Dead? Nope. Alive. He has had extensive plastic and vocal cord surgery, in an attempt to throw off would-be assassins, assumed the name Chris Martin, and performs with his band, maybe you've heard of them, Coldplay? You're probably thinking, umm, huh? Well me, too. But let's just go with it. Ok. Everyone knows John must have his Yoko, and so he does. Only it's not the actual Yoko, well it is, but she's taken over Gwyneth Paltrow's body in what I can only describe as some sort of Freaky Friday experiment gone horribly awry, sort of like when Lindsey Lohan and that girl from Halloween switched bodies. I know this is a lot to swallow, so I'll let it sink in a bit, but I thought you would want to know so you could put on your John Lennon Is Alive t-shirt right away and tell all your friends.
Also (she says, as if this is related to anything), I'm half convinced there is a homeless mass murderer living in the empty apartment above me. It's either that or an escaped Panda from China that goes by the name "Dim Sum". And what's worse is I'm not sure which would be better. And what's worse than that is I can't stop listening to The Pet Shop Boys and their 80's hit "Always On My Mind". And what's even worse is I think I heard the homeless mass murderer/Panda named Dim Sum dancing around to it up there.
