Oatmeal is the devil's breakfast

I blow dry my hair while in the bathtub. Well it DOES save time. And what can I say, I like to live dangerously. It gives my otherwise bland day that added element of "Will I or won't I make it out of the tub alive?". And sometimes that's just what a girl needs to keep on keeping on. (Yeah, I don't know what I'm talking about anymore either, don't worry.)


Ok, here's the other thing. I buy things off eBay. No big deal, who doesn't, right? It's all fun and games until you end up with some dubious Eastern-European-looking adult movies (or as you may know it PORN) you have no recollection of bidding on them or buying them or setting them up on that special display case you apparently bought so you could show them off to all your friends who are, of course, not really  your friends, and what's worse, they don't even like you. In fact you're pretty sure they're poised to start a war against you, but you're too afraid to get close enough to find out since they seem to emit some sort of evil radioactivity glow, and frankly, you get enough of that from your microwave oven. 

I mean seriously, is the radiation that I feel leaking out of my microwave oven going to impede my giving birth to a one-headed baby one day? It's like a warm sunshiny nuclear breeze blowing when I stand within 50 feet of it, I swear. Not that I care! The more heads, the more to love is what I always say.

Anyways, do you see a pattern here? Neither do I, but still I must be stopped! Before I hurt someone! So call Dr Phil and get him to help me. Oh wait, he only helps the orphans, that's right. Well still, for the price of a cup of coffee a day you could be supporting my precarious mental state. Or something like that. And if you're wondering what any of this has to do with oatmeal, you're not alone.