We used to call this XANGA.

so today on the drive home from work my dad tells me that we need to go pick up a jock strap for my brother craig. so first we go to mervans but they didnt have any, annoyed we then headed to target who sieze the day didnt have any, angry as a parapaleeeeegic etheopian watching a giant glazed donut roll down a hill i proceeded to go to sports authority, well finally my dad finds one but half way home he realizes he got the wrong type, so we swing back around and finally we have what we were looking for infamous athletic supporter to support my brothers wienray. well irritated about this long journy of nothingness im driving home all pissed off when i see this mischievous look in my dad's eye while hes laughing uncontrollably, he then looks me straight in the face and says under muffled laughter.. "dare me to put this on my head??" i tell him "you better not, you had better not" he crackles a bolt of laughter and puts the jock strap over his face and starts laughing hysterically, meanwhile i have everyone on Broadway Road pointing at me with my dad in the passenger seat wearing undawear on his head. i was thankful to make it home without murdering him..

I miss this.. not necessarily my dad wearing my brothers jock strap on his head in traffic, but being able to record my memories and thoughts. I feel like a forty year old woman using this, but no one uses XANGA. Thats right Blogspot, this ain' my first rodeo. Anyways I need to go to church, but I'll talk to you later.