This morning I was reading the Evil Plan book that my best friend and I created. I realized that I haven't written in there since about 2004 sometime. Anyway, here's what the me of two years ago was plotting: "Complain about feeling ill. Run unexpectedly towards cute guy. Projectile vomit on cute guy's pants. Yell, 'Quick, take off your pants! I'll get some water on them!' Be very urgent about this. Leave . . . with pants. Do not ever ever return." Cute guys of the world, BEWARE!