there's holes in all the bottles and my lungs hurt

My tongue hurts. and I had a dream that my cat was named "Tony" and my sister, who was a small African-American boy, killed my father. And I shopped for casual wear at the casual wear store with the wife of the first person my sister had killed, and then we ran away to the beach, where Oliver Platt, who was a large African-American man, tracked us down, and pretended he was dead dressed as Waldo (as in Where's?) and lay on the bathroom floor while we hatched a plan, and then caught us, later, in a tent.

I woke up at 10 pm, not that it matters, and my to do list of Farscape items is three and a half pages long. So I need to keep working, and not playing the [frozen fruits] game (though I've already won and I'm now on the sequel, level 23), and I need to figure out what Crichton (black shirt) learned that Crichton (green shirt) didn't, and what was sent in Stark's mask, and I need to write character arcs and race definitions and I need to spend some time with the Scorpiuses and Crichtons in each others' heads.

So that's tonight, and then it's my sister's birthday tomorrow (thanks AJ!) and I'll meet her for lunch (before sleeping) and I'll write some more.

This is what I look like busy.

OH, and I meant to say -- I think Joey is a big drama queen and I think JC is competitive as fuck, in fact, that's the basis for the thing I'm writing now. Whoever it was who said that, Ins probably? having Farscape on the brain, sorry So anyway, it's Helen's fault. but it's coming. I just have to figure out how to get Britney in there without breaking poor Justin's heart (too much). Though Justin's being a bit of an asshole over here...

And I have to come up with a song for the YV cd too.

But for now I'm going to drink tea and Farscape some more, and later, maybe, I'll take a bath.

my tongue hurts.