Sorry I didn't write anything yesterday. I was busy. I am trying to figure out a way to induce a four year coma. So far, I'm not really coming up with anything that seems effective. Yasser Arafat is so lucky.

I will have to get my wisdom teeth taken out soon, so that's exciting. Painkillers! Haven't had them since I had kidney stones. That was quite fun. I was in college. I was killing "pain" in many a class. I think I made the dean's list that semester. Did I ever tell you my kidney stone story? Maybe one day I will.

A few years before I got them, my little sister had them. They are apparently hereditary. My dad had them. So not only did I inherit a sweaty back from him, but I also inherited the most painful shit in the world. Anyway, we were on the way to school. My older sister was driving. She a senior, me a junior, and my kid sister, Laurie, a freshman.

Laurie starts complaining that her back hurts. Christina, the elder, didn't want to hear it. I don't remember exactly what she said, but it was something to the effect of, "Shut your mouth, bitch!" My sisters didn't get along back then.

So we got to school, and that was that. During my fifth period history class, everyone noticed there was kind of a stank in the hallway. Craig Butler, who had the nickname of Buttface, walked into the class and said, "It smells like fucking vomit out there."

It did smell like vomit. I thought nothing of it. I got home later that day and there was a note from my dad that said he was at the hospital with Laurie. Apparently, soon after homeroom, Laurie's back pain kicked into full gear and made her nauseous. She puked in the hallway. Turns out it was kidney stones. They'll do that to you. I think Christina felt bad.