The Moral of the Story is there is no Moral

I thought I'd stay in tonight. Do some cleaning, learn some Anthropology. And it's only kind of working out that way. I've done some cleaning, not enough. I've watch my fish kill an algae eater, just attack him until he was dead, and I couldn't do anything about it because everytime I tried to catch him he'd swim away as fast as could be and hide and I just couldn't get him. And now he's dead. And the other one I managed to catch before the fish killed him and now he's in the baby tank, but they kind of look like a fierce army on the verge of killing him.

I need to clean my room because our dog whisperer is comming to stay with us next weekend, so my room should be clean for that. In case she wants to see the fish. But I hate cleaning. Hate with a capital HATE. But also, I hate this stupid Anthro class I'm taking. It's dumb. Blah. Not that I go to it or anything *lol*

I need to think of text to at least get to the end of this pic I made in PaintShop Pro of an actual bottle of Vodka that I have. I like how it turned out. Maybe even the text I write will wrap the pic. That would be nice. I just figured out how to see all the people that come to my blog in statcounter thing. With the little map and there's dots all over the place. Even someone from Japan came to my blog. That made me happy, and I thought of sushi and vegetable tempura and now I want Japanese food.