"It's No Use Capt'n: She Don't 'ave The Power!"

Just wanted to post so that you could all know that I'm still awake at this hour. I thought I'd just put up my last peeving post and go to bed, but nope, not the case. Instead, I began what I thought was going to be a casual perusal of my usual reads, but now I'm up, and:

• considering opening a LiveJournal account
  
• wondering what Hydrophobic Fish's* web address is (*Hydrophobic Fish being the new name for Pro-Shopper)
  
• cursing the fact that my Rogers webpage won't initiate itself
  
• realizing that my world is shrinking at an exponential rate (I learned it was 888's b-day from a stranger's page!)
  
• worrying about the fact that I have 3 more essays due by the end of this month
  
• getting distracted by more blog-surfing
  
• wishing I had my own server and website
  
• dreaming that one day all I'll ever have to do is sit around, read, and write all day while sitting in the sun

I think I've read about 20 different posts/pages in the last hour or so, meanwhile I've been trying to go to bed for the last three hours. I suck. I just don't have the will-power to rip myself away from this screen--I might miss something! Someone might post! The pictures on my page might work by themselves!

Amusing Digression:
Mom's been trying to get Brodder and I to try all these natural creams for our skin. Today she wanted us to slather aloe on our faces straight from her plant that lives on the landing of the stairs. Of course we were too lazy to go and cut ourselves a few pieces to do so and continued to putz around the computer together instead. The next thing you know, Mom comes flying out of nowhere, flying-tackles me, puts my head in a mega-death-grip, and slathers me with this slice of aloe, me screaming the whole time and Brodder laughing hysterically.

She managed to swipe the plant under my nose and I mentioned that I felt violated as though she'd just given me a "Dirty Sanchez." Of course I had to explain my use of terms and she found my definition a little more than amusing. She was still laughing as she made her way back to the kitchen, chiming in with Brodder's still quieting outburst from earlier. Brodder and I turn back to what we were doing and all was calm once again. But not for too long. Next thing you know, Mom comes flying out of nowhere again and flying-tackles Brodder, applying the same death-grip as before, but exclaiming "Dirty Sanchez!" as she slathered his face with the aloe. Oh Modder. And people wonder where Brodder and I get our humour from?
...

Back to the blogging going to sleep. It looks like my computer/internet is crashing anyway and I can’t even restart the computer because Brodder is converting his precious anime. I think it'll be a miracle if this post makes the publish...night. ZZZzzzzzZzzzzZZZzzzZZZzZzzzz