Leftovers (alternately, "I never smoked enough weed to justify my memory loss")

Because I didn't feel like writing today, Out of sheer laziness curiosity, I did a quick scan of the 62 draft blog posts in my arsenal and was horrified to discover that not only do they all suck, but none of them make even the slightest bit of sense, which is especially unfortunate since I no longer remember what I was talking about, and therefore I must live with the knowledge that my riveting story of "Nintendo tried to kill me" will never be told.

When taken all together, though, they do form a bit of a picture of how my fucking cracked mind works, and so I don't have to write an actual post today for that, I'm going to show them to you.

Let's start with saved drafts that LITERALLY CONTAIN NO MATERIAL WHATSOEVER, only titles:

• Tinsel
• The toilet saga
• Her Lipgloss is poppin
• We've been boo'd
• Words
• My personal favorite, Ted Stevens fails to report gift of life, finds justice in fiery airplane crash
• Teeth dream
• Where has my libido gone?
• Okay, but sometimes shut up
• Sex talk with my mom (okay, unfortunately I do remember this one)
• Fungal love
• I don't miss you right now
• Furry bandit stakeout
• Jon Gosselin abused by Kate's hair
• And let's not forget the all-important Ingrown cooter hairs 

I'm most intrigued by "Words" because what exactly the fuck else would a blog post be besides words? Mimed dialogue? Soft porn? Was I making some kind of commentary or was I literally unable to come up with a decent title for that post?

::elevator music while I check to see if there were any actual words in the body of that draft::

Okay, so the entirety of the (BRILLIANTLY TITLED) post "Words" is below:

C'est la vie

Donezo

Yes We Can

I don't know whether I was trying to convince myself that the two years of high school French were, in fact, NOT a ginormous waste of time or if I was trying out different slogans for the Obama '08 campaign, in which case I'm pretty sure the third option would be considered plagiarism.

Okay, so now check out this post titled "I've got all my eggs in twin baskets":

Being the worrier that I am, I have spent a lot of time mildly freaking out about the possibility of losing my job. I got laid off in March last year, although they kept me on until July. But with the current financial crisis and the fact that every single person in the world is getting laid off right now, I feel it's prudent to make a Plan B. 

Not only do I have no idea why I was freaking out about losing my job, I should mention that I never bothered to come up with a financial Plan B. Unless you count hooking, but in the event of a layoff, that's already my Plan A.
 
This one illustrates my laziness to a T, meaning I never got around to blogging about Gray's proposal to me: "Be very afraid. Marginally afraid is acceptable."

Holy cannoli-balls people, I'm back from vacation and I am ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED. Where do I even start?

"At the beginning" is not an option because I'm stuck in epic poetry mode and I must begin in medius res or the entire world with implode in a cloud of bad cologne and hornyness. And I just learned that spell check does not recognize "hornyness" as an actual word, therefore I claim it.

Can you say I'm a douche? Because that's basically what the entire previous paragraph relays.

How about the much anticipated "The trouble with trusting a fart, Part II"...This one simply says, "Yes, it's happened again." WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED AGAIN and exactly how many pairs of underwear did I have to trash that day?

The world will never know.