Good morning.  It is currently just about 4:20 in Winnipeg Manitoba.  Here I sit, smoking bunk weed, that kinda gets me stoned I guess, but maybe it's just because I'm so incredibly tired, that I think I'm stoned, but I'm really not.  Or maybe I really am, since I just wrote out that incredibly confusing sentence.  Yes.  Structure escapes me when I write my streams.  4:20.  Happy 4:20.  In Germany, it is currently 12:20pm.  I miss my Karen.  "Why are you so far away from me..."  Bah.  Something about being across the sea.  It's a Weezer song that made me think of Karen today.  *Sniff Sniff*

So apparently tomorrow...Tonight...whatever...is "girls night."  I can't remember the last time I really had a girl's night.  Where I actually went out and did SOMETHING with a bunch of my chickies.  Bah.  It's been too long then I would think, wouldn't you?  I cannot sleep.  I am tired.  I miss Scottay.  Yes.  Boys are evil, but so very very very geeeeeeeeewd at the same time.  *dances a happy dance*  So ya, I read the February 17th stream and I don't understand all of it.  Although I can tell you that I said I liked being single.  Ironically enough, I met Scott the next day, and we've been insepperable (spelling?) ever since.  Oh no...I'm talking about a boy.  Mush!  Aaaaaaaaaaaaah...

I...suggest that if you're canadian, and you don't mind other Canadians complaining about Canada (heh), that you download a song by Three Dead Trolls in a Baggie...called The Toronto Song.  It's very cute, and if you're like me, you just might enjoy it.  Or...be horribly offended, I'm not quite sure which at this point in time.  Feel free to let me know. Speaking of Canadians...I happen to like the new Canadian (beer) commercial that's on right now.  With the guy with the accent...saying we have purdy money and stuff.  I don't remember all of it.  It's overplayed, but I rarely see it with the sound on.  Usually while watching hockey...with no sound...in a bar or something.  Fuck.  Why am I talking about this?

Do I really have so very little to say?  I'm currently in the process of reading Somebody to Love by Grace Slick (and her editor, who's name seems to escape me at the present time).  It's an excellent book.  She talks about the first time she meets Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones, thinking that his house will be an orgy of sex and drugs (heroin mainly), but it turns out to be the complete opposit.  Mick in a business suit, offers them just tea, and is strictly business.  Neat-o, if you ask me.  She also talks about meeting Joni Mitchell for the first time, which is cool too.   It's a really good book for anyone interested in the 60's music scene (the later  years anyway, the years we remember most for all the cool psychedelics).  Even if you don't like Jefferson Airplane.  :)

And so I figure I should end this.  I don't know, I'm actually writing complete thoughts it would seem, and that's not nearly as interested as the warped thoughts that enter my brain when I'm royally screwed.  Okay, not royally, but more stoned than this.  Take Care dahlings.