I am an arms dealer, fitting you with weapons in the form of words*

Tonight has been el sucko. First, the federal government prohibited me from purchasing 20 tablets of Claritin-D, which would greatly help me feel normal. Apparently, cracked-out punks can use it in their unstable homemade meth labs so that tweakers do not have to go without. Since I didn't want to carry my wallet, I only took my credit card. Without my driver's license or a picture i.d., the squirrely man behind the counter could not sell me anything to decongest my airways. I did manage to score some Ny-Quil, so not all hope is lost.

Second, because I am sick I feel entitled to eat the low-fat, chewy goodness that is a tootsie roll. In fact, I feel entitled to buy a bag of midgees sans guilt, and I feel justified ignoring that little voice in the back of my head that reminds me that I have plenty of weight to lose and that tootsie rolls only contribute to that goal in my self-created alternate universe - the one where I am also queen! I left the drug store with my bag of midgees only to discover when I got home that they are rock hard. What makes tootsie rolls so great is the combination of the fake-chocolate taste and the chewiness! My bag of midgees is only useful should I wish to pull out a filling or potentially crack a tooth.

*I think the lyrics to the new Fallout Boy song are heelarious! Expect the title of this blog to make many more appearances.