The hum of the computers in the Lab is as far as inspiration is going to meet me today. The only thing left upstairs is exactly what is coming out now. Production of sentences further than 2 away from any conversation I will have today has ceased, until further notice. This weekend Birdman and I accompanied Ryonce and his man friend at their cabin which was really a trailer, a nice trailer, at that, if at all possible. I went to the doctor's on thursday, and it turns out that I weigh more than most medium sized sharks. This morning is the first day of my diet, and I already feel like shit. I had a 300 calorie bowl of oatmeal and some diet pop for breakfast, because my grandmother said I should eat breakfast. I vomited up the snack pack of sacred Timbits and the small decaf double-double I devoured shortly after the 14th blunt of the weekend that we smoked on the way home. Whenever I smoke with Ryonce, it's always blunts, and it's always a lot of them. I was stoned from noon on saturday until about midnight on sunday. We spent about 70 bucks on weed, and it was gone before we got back to Buffalo. I can't believe I used to smoke this much EVERY DAY, of course we now have the luxury of kind bud, and I have unknowingly become one of those quality people, an affliction that slowly breaks one down after many a teenage year of, well, I can't quite remember, actually.

I was going to tell you about how I almost shit my pants this morning, but Birdman is here to get me from school.