This day...anything goes!

Happy Halloweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!!!

I still feel a little on the sickly side but I'm ignoring it because today is HALLOWEEN! And as the text message I received this morning read: BEST HALLOWEEN EVER! I've been told by the man of the house that even though I'm feeling slightly better, I still have to take it easy during tonight's festivities. And he's right. If I push myself, I'll get worse and I really can't handle that. I was having a hissy fit that my cold would ruin Todd's Halloween...but we agreed that we'll be happy as long as we're together.

So have fun doing whatever you're doing, boys and ghouls!

This day never seems to end.

I can't even believe this. I should believe it but I can't. It's not fair. I had a very brief window of feeling better-n-on the mend and that window slammed shut. I have brand new symptoms that include sneezing. Not just sneezing but sneezing with the force of a hurricane inside my skull! I am chugging water by the liter full...WATER! For me, that's like drinking bottled blood, I hate water so much. But I am so THIRSTY. I can not get control of my thirst and dehydration. My beak is raw and red and I am just MISERABLE (yet still adorable as all get out)! I did EVERYTHING I was supposed to. I took the stupid vitamins Todd forced on me. I drank water (a.k.a. bottled blood). I rested. I took the proper medicine at the proper times. I tried to eat decently. IT'S NOT FAIR!

Tomorrow is Halloween!!! If I have to stay home and boycott all Halloween plans...I will cry. I will cry ALL night. Actually, missing out is not even an option, at least for tomorrow. It's Sugar's LAST show. I have been Super Fan for like 7 years. I would never forgive myself if I missed the show and the opportunity to hear some of the old Sugar gems. And Yokels? This is probably my last opportunity to ever hear "Mean Little Doggie"! I have to go. Fuck. I'm so miserable. I can cross my fingers and pray that this is the end of it. That tomorrow by go time, I'll be ready. Because that's what I'm down to. The voo-doo options. Maybe I'll have to trade a costume for comfort. Double fuck.

I have to dress up. We're working so hard on our costumes and I NEVER get to wear a costume. In fact, the last 3 years have been a total bust because I was dating someone who was rotten and alienating all of my friends because of him and he was basically a fun hater. Everything has been so boss lately and I know Todd and I are going to have a great Halloween. And like I've said, almost EVERYONE I care about will be at the Beachland...even Jen, Rocko and maybe Tessa! I don't want to FINALLY have an opportunity for a bad-ass Halloween and be too sick to enjoy it. Maybe I can go to the doctor and get a B-12 shot or something. Get my ass in gear.

I got a text message from Todd saying he's hurting because I'm hurting and wishes he could take my pain away. That helps more than he could possible know. Please keep your fingers crossed that I don't end up as the undead on one of my favorite days of the year. It's been 14 days. I can't even believe this. Atthis rate, Johnny and I will NEVER get to see "Nick and Norah". Sigh.

Makes you think all the world's a sunny day.

Still sick. Eleven days and couting.

We cancelled our first PFG show in the 3.5 years we've been together. I feel like a total scumbag but it was beyond our control. I had considered the possibility on Thursday but felt SO scummy about it that I figured we'd just tuff it out. We're tuff cookies. But Christina and I got WORSE overnight. While Karen is one Hell of a fucking machine, she couldn't do the whole show by herself and she knew it was too much for us. We would've been total garbage. And as she said, "A sick Pussyfoot show is NO FUN". She was so understanding. I feel like I should buy her cookies or something. Rice. She likes rice. We hope Cedar's doesn't hold this against us because we love it there. I missed Hucklebucks. Cry. Pout. Moan.

But something AMAZING happened Friday.

I just can't say what it was. There isn't a name for it.

I have to stop thinking about it. Le sigh.

The rest of the weekend was pretty bare bones due to my illness. Couldn't even drag my sorry ass into work which my co-workers will thank me for. I did eat a steak and it was amazing. Everything tasted/smelled/sounded/felt/looked a little bit better on Friday. Besides me. I was a nasty, sick, hot mess. Saturday I painted...all day...and worked on my Plushform. I was productive. I was encouraged. But I'm pretty sure something was stabbing me abdominally from the inside. Happened again last night during an intense game of Yahtzee. Regardless...made art progress and house progress this weekend...AND saw what will forever be called "the peach blur" and loved it.

Halloween is Friday and since the last 2 Halloweens have been total nightmares for me (and not the fun Halloweeny kind of nightmares)...I'm really counting on the promise that "this year will be different". How could it not be awesome with what we have planned? And (almost) all of my favorite peeps will be in one place, swigging beer and rocking out! Yeah...Halloween is going to be mind blowing. I hope it blows my mind all over your face! BWAH HA HA HA HA HA!

Try to earn what lovers own.

I went on this date a few years ago and I declared it the best date I'd ever been. It was everything that a date SHOULD be. Nothing romantic. Nothing fancy. Just hell-rainsing and hysterics. And adorable hair-dos! I dated a different man for 3 years after that date (why Phoebe didn't kick me in the vagina with her boots and STOP ME from dating said "man", I will never know...could be the thick skull and stars in my eyes) and that date still held the title. It was still THEE best date I had ever been on.

NOT ANYMORE!!

I went on THEE best date of my entire life last night. I shouldn't have been running amuck and dating at ALL in my sickly condition...and yes, the date WAS with my boyfriend but is there a LAW that says you can't go on dates with your boyfriend? I had a miserable, pathetic, raincloud hovering over my head all day. This raincloud was on the rag, major. And I was being a total hot crotch, I know this. But I took the high road and decided to turn my day around. There was only ONE THING I wanted to do and Todd was completely on board.

We went to Dave and Buster's!

I thought that we were going to have a child companion but it turned out to be just the future Mr. and Mrs. so we got to crank the rating up from G to PG-13. And when I say everything was perfect...everything WAS. This is NOT an exaggeration. The drive there was boss. The walk in was boss. Filling our cards up was boss. Walking in was boss. We had big, frosty, delicious Happy Hour priced beers. We both did these ridiculously delish shots. Our appetizer fried were mind-blowing. I HAD THE BEST SANDWICH I'VE EVER HAD! Sure, I didn't annihilate him at hoops like I talked so much shit about doing but I did flip lids with my domination of Raptor Captor! I was even told that if I could buy a ring (even a plastic number) with our combined tickets, I'd be an engaged woman right now. Outside of slicing my finger open and spurting blood the whole way home...BEST DATE EVER.

Maybe it just seems like we drank, ate, and goofed off...but it was the goofing off that turned my day around. We had a blast together like we were 2 high school kids. We flirted and smooched and...goofed off. We toasted giant beers to my bad day! It was exactly the medicine I needed to put the stomp on my boo-hooing. I am capable of turning bad days around. I usually don't believe in the power of positive thinking but it really came through for me yesterday. And Todd came through with his "ready for anything" attitude. I can't really capture in words what made it such a fun and amazing night. I just felt more at ease and stress free than I have in weeks. Which is pretty damn cool.

Best date ever. Hands down.

Come on and show me how you work.

HAPPY 400TH POST, CLEVELAND A!

Fuck having a cold. And having all your muscles ache and your stomach do flips and your head pound. Fuck congestion and coughing and sore throats. Fuck not being able to sleep and looking at the clock every 30 MINUTES! And super fuck feeling like there's a fishbowl inside your head when you know you have a ten hour work day ahead of you PLUS an art project that's due by the week. FUCK all of THAT. I really don't mean to be a potty mouth. I miss my bed and my snuggle bug. F!!!

Yesterday we're cruising from Todd's parents house to my house. Sorry. OUR house formerly known as MY house. The kid now knows that he's moving in to Ol' Kentucky Shark territory and he's pumped, or so I hear. Back to cruising. The kid is desperately trying to get his dad's attention and he says, "Dad...is Lacey going to be my step-mom?". And Todd said, "Yes she is". I, of course, told the child that I would be no one's step-mom until I had a diamond on my digit. Todd said maybe he's take him along to pick it out. I warned him not to pick anything hideous. It was a really funny family-ish moment. Oh...after learning that I'd be his step-mom one day, he said "YEA!!!". I predicted confusion, upset, possibly blood and tears. This reaction was far more satisfactory. Things are falling into place and I LIKE IT.

What I DON'T like is living so far from Rebecky.

Becky thinks that she's boring because any time anyone comes to visit, they fall asleep. It is NOT due to boredom in the least. I think people just feel so comfortable around her and in her home...and she treats everyone so well...pumps us full of beer and food and love. It's hard not to feel at ease. And when you feel at ease...you fall asleep. And you sleep through the WHOLE night! Then you come back home and you can't sleep and...you miss Becky. Le sigh.

I could keep blathering about how I have to finish my Plushform, work on my martini girl painting, work on "the love chamber" before the shelves get put up, finishing "Taste Like Poison" before practice...and I could rattle on about how bananas I am for Todd because I'm really bananas about him at this moment it time. But I have a cold or flu or some sort of malady and I think my stomach wants to expel it's insides...which consist of M&Ms and cough syrup. So I'm going to ditch and mope until I can get back into my cocoon/burrito.

This remedy has got to me.

I threw up at work today! For no reason at all! I'm not hungover because I only has 2.5 beers on my date with Phoebe. Didn't eat anything fishy that would make me squirrely...didn't eat too much at all. Maybe I have a parasite. And by "parasite", I do NOT mean "something that will become someone that will be dependent on me until they are 18". Maybe it's a tape worm. Todd asked me last night if I had lost weight. I have but not enough that I thought anyone would notice. Maybe it IS a tapeworm. Or maybe it's this cold/flu that's been raping everyone around town. Maybe it's coming for me next! Either way, I felt better for a hot minute and now I'm back to feeling sea-sick. I wonder if a Snickers will help?

Leaving to see Becky in 24 hours. Psyched...NOW!

Oh...that stress I had yesterday? Todd saved the day.

I am not exaggerating in the least when I say it feels like my intestines are trying to pull a Mexican Surfboard with my stomach. I honestly may throw up the Snickers I just ate. This is SO unfair! That's 50 cents I'm getting ready to flush. Grrrrrrr.

I'm just looking for that home stretch.

I feel fucking sick to my stomach today. Parasite sick. Morning sickness sick. I feel like there's a fishbowl in my head and any second, if you look into my eyes, you'll see a fishy swimming past. I'm not sick or ill or lethargic. I'm not hungover. I'm not being dramatic. I'm NERVOUS. I'm chock full of nerves. I'm in a panic and it's honestly making me physically ill. I don't want to talk about the gorey details because I will either cry (which I vowed to stop doing) or throw up (which wouldn't be very appropriate at this moment). I just want to solve my problem so I can stop holding my breath and function normally! I'm a wreck. This is so bad. I haven't been in this kind of fucked up situation in a long time. It's embarrassing. And sickening, clearly.

Regardless of my little black rain cloud...

I got a lot off my chest yesterday...but don't worry. There as plush and bountiful as ever. A lot of things I had to say, I said. Things I HAD to say. You can only keep things bottled up for so long before the bottle breaks, despite what Counter Clockweyes thinks. And sometimes it's hard to MAKE a person sit down and listen to you, especially if it's an adult...an adult that might be hurt by things you have to say. But if it's important...you make it happen. I made it happen. Relieving that stress made room for new stress (ex. little black rain cloud situation). I hate the phrase "we have to talk". It's just flat out gross. But I guess in real, grown-up relationships...you have to talk sometimes. And sometimes what you say opens someone else's eyes. So...I feel good about that. I'm glad I talked. I'm glad I was listened to. I'm just fucking glad all over.

I'm also glad that Todd and I are going to Columbus this weekend. Not to sound like a hippie or all wishy-washy...but Becky is a very calming presence in my life. I think we fought TWICE and both times it was over something stupid and while we weren't speaking, I felt like one of my limbs had been ripped off by a dinosaur. Anyway, I've been ultimately stressed out ever since my surgery. I haven't been sleeping. I haven't been productive. I haven't been very emotionally awesome. Becky is the most awesome person I know so she's probably the person that can snap me out of this non-awesome state I'm currently existing in. Todd helps too. He snuggles the non-awesomeness out of me. And I'm glad he gets to spend some time with Becky. She's the other love of my life. This sugary dose of sappiness is not helping my stomach distress. Blech! Over.

It's Lacey/Phoebe Date Night tonight and she said the beers are on her. That was music to my ears since I have $5 in my wallet that I'm saving for some sort of horrific emergency taht will no doubt come my way. Though $5 COULD get me 3 beers at our new hangout. Isn't that amazing? Amazing. I love the world we live in...or at least the cheap beer part of it. I do not love how filthy I currently feel so I need to schedule some sort of hosing off period before hang-time. I know Phoebe loves my filth but everyone has a limit.

I like Ben and Johnny using the phrase "tasties". I wish I could.

If you kiss me mister, you must think I'm pretty.

Fiddlesticks!

Todd and I both agree that last night was the WORST sleeping experience we've ever had. We could NOT sleep. We could snuggle...we just couldn't SLEEP. And it's not like we got a few hours and are just bitching. We didn't sleep...period. When I turned, he turned. When he turned, I turned. We looked at the clock every 20 minutes. I was hot and fussy and his legs and feet hurt. We were generally uncomfortable. We were also generally hungover most of the day. I had to pull the trigger. His stomach was in knots. The hangovers and gone but the exhaustion is hanging on for dear life. Todd and I have a toasty warm coma planned post-work and I couldn't be more psyched.

I just got a text asking, "Is it Lacey O'Clock yet?". Sigh.

Oh! NEWS! My art show...tentatively titled "Cannibalicious"...thanks Tom...will run at Low Life Gallery from August 7th to August 31st. There will be a Friday night opening reception thing-a-ma-jig and I expect you all to be there and looking hot. Even mommy dearest said she'll be there. Todd says at the rate I'm going, I'll have 2 paintings and he's right. I didn't paint at ALL this weekend. And there's mandatory overtime this week (trust me...I can use the scratch) so I can't devote my entire Friday to painting. I need to get back on track. I want 50 to 60 pieces so I need to buckle the fuck down. But first...I need to get some sleep. And I can't. Any suggestions?

This weekend was fun and productive in other ways so I have no regrets about not painting. It was fun and productive and smutty. LOTS of smut. In fact, there's a funny story about our smuttiness but it's on good, ol' My Space for my nearest and dearest to read and get sickened by. Fun and productive and smutty...the story of my life! I can't focus on this anymore. I need the caffeine to kick in before the wit and wonder does.

I would gladly bet my life upon it.

Yesterday, after careful consideration, I decided that I will get lyrics from "Alec Eiffel" tattooed on me somewhere. Probably my ribs. I mean, after getting a gassy skunk drilled in my armpit, everything else will be a piece of cake, right? Easy as pie?

I've been listening to the song a lot over the last few years and more than ever it's started to mean something to me (feelings, emotions, personal meaning...gross). People didn't want Eiffel to build the tower, they didn't understand his vision, they didn't understand why it had to be so large. And now...people travel from all over the stupid world just to see it.

"They didn't want it but he built it anyway". Sometimes you have to do what you set out to do...be who you are...even if no one backs you up. I know I said I didn't want meaning in any of my tattoos (just gut-busting humor and nuttiness) but it just fits. Bravo, Alexander.

I've decided that in addition to "The Organ Diners" and a few random "I felt like painting this particular nonsense", I'm going to do an additional collection based on the Disney princesses. A little sluttier and bloodier, of course. They'll go along with the overall creepy and kooky style of "The Organ Diners"...just a little less cartoony. There will be boobies for sure so don't think little Suzie is getting a portrait of Cinderella for her bedroom. Snow White, Ariel, Cinderella...those are on the top of my list right now. Suggestions? Hit me.

Phoebe is going with me to the gallery tonight to nail down a date for a solo show. I couldn't be more pumped. And nervous for some reason. Once I have the dates, I can plan out how many paintings I need to have a full show and how much time I can afford to spend on each. On the flip side...once I have dates...it's official. And what if my show is a failure? What if I don't sell even ONE piece??? My tummy is rumbley. Good thing I have Phoebe to talk me off the ledge.

In her honor, I smell like a waffle today.

Tomorrow starts a long weekend but it will probably be anything but chillaxing. We need groceries. We need to go to the dreaded Home Depot (dreaded because I hate the smell of lumber) because I need bedroom shelves. We need to sort out everything we can so it can make it out on trash day. Stuff I don't need must move out so stuff he must have can move in. There's a lot to be done. PLUS...as much painting as possible! I have a feeling we'll secretly be drinking margaritas out giant skull cups.

That's how we roll.

I close my eyes to see your determined face.

I just made the sign of the cross. And not at all in a mocking way. Sheeesh.

Right now, at this very moment, Todd is taking his CDL test and I am a wr-r-r-r-reck. I keep catching myself holding my breath and focus is out the window! I'm trying to be patient and positive but I am on edge and have all my fingers and toes crossed. I have total faith that he can pass the test and I've tried to be encouraging. I've just known a lot of guys who have failed...mostly do to the pre-trip inspection...but he knows his shtuff. I don't want him to fail. Not because I'll think of him as a failure because I would NOT. Last night we were rocking some Yahtzee and he asked me if I'd be proud of him if he passed. That's why I want him to...I want him to be proud of himself. ARGH! I just want word. Pass? Fail? WHAT!?!?!

I said I'd bake him a cake if he passed. I'll bake one regardless.

I was already to blog on about some troubling news I received which kept me up ALL night but I'm just too mentally exhausted from thinking about it and too amped from waiting for NEWS! Yesterday should have been a good day...Todd moved in a whole car-load of stuff! Cohabitating is truckin' right along! But all that excitement and awesomeness was just squashed by the big foot of reality. I feel like a fuck-up today. But I'll set it straight. I always do. My ulcer is going to be soooo big and amazing, I can just feel it in my bones. And in my stomach lining.

I have both Veruca Salt and Belly simultaneously playing in my skull.

I think I am going to resurrect my "Picture Of The Day" blog in order to entertain Potsie Shark-Pants, which I feel is my mission in life. I'm just not sure if I want to post a picture/pictures that I take on a daily basis or if I just want to post any picture from my collection (it's a big and entertaining collection that will blow your mind all over your face). I'm hesitant to post a picture that I take every day because what if nothing happens? Do you really want to look at a picture of my foot? And do I want to make them black-n-white like I did last time? Oh the options are overwhelming!! I do NOT need this stress right now!

Skunk...OUT!

Cause you're so good so far.

If you missed Family Guy on Sunday, go murder yourself NOW!

We managed to jam-pack a lot of fun, activity and adventure into one tiny and compact weekend so of course, my back is sore, my head aches, my legs feel like lead, and I'm bleeding vaginally. But that last one is a more than welcome ailment. Way to go, Nature!

The Halloween Spooktacular opening at Low Life was more than I could have hoped for. The gallery is nifty and intimate. And all the Halloween/horror/creepy art made me feel right at home. And alright, so I was nervous about how my painting would stand up to the rest of the bunch. An e-mail from the owner telling me he loved it and it anchored a wall nicely helped. Phoebe saying EVERYTHING she said pre/during/post-show helped. Seeing it on the wall from the street helped. Seeing people point at it and say they loved it helped. I'm pround of myself. Now hopefully it sells!

I want a solo show at Low Life more than ANYTHING now and am currently working on that. Everyone's eyes and ears and vaginas will be bleeding once I find out for sure. It will be plastered everywhere and I'll probably be buried alive so I shut up about it. I can handle it. I'm one tuff cookie. Regardless...stay tuned. And on that note, thanks to Todd, Tom and Carol, and Johnny for coming to the opening night reception and being all sexy and supportive. A special thanks to Carol for bringing those BOOBS! And an extra-special thanks to Phoebe for bringing painting back into my life. Filled a major void. I love you and would one day like to cover you in paint. But we can discuss that in private.

Then there was the campout...

The campout was an amazing amount of fun, per usual. We set up camp (Camp Coolsville, I'll call it) and the fellas went fishing. 8 fish in a row (some repeat offenders). There was a scavenger hunt for the kiddies. There was yummy food. There were bad-ass pumpkins. There was a Haunted Forest. There was a romantic/creepy moonlight snuggle by the pond. There were S'Mores. There was my new favorite photo...of Todd and Molly fake burping. And then there was sleeping...and freezing...and my ass turning into an ice-block. But we survived and had fun together. We'll all be back next time. I'll be 31 next time. Eek!

Oh, Talladega? GO SMOKE!

Camping is exhausting so Sunday was lazy. We did make an extensive list of things we want to do around the Ol' Kentucky homestead to make it better-n-brighter-n-more kick-ass (if that's at all possible). It's going from mine to ours and I'm proud to say that we've been accomplishing a lot lately. Like real, live, responsible grown ups! Who knew we had it in us???

Go to Low Life! See my painting! Up until November 3rd!

It's the new sensation and it's here to stay.

Get out of your comas, dust off your lazy bones, put on some pants and celebrate October, and more importantly, HALLOWEEN! Where can you do this so early in the month, ghouls-n-boys? At the Halloween Spooktacular: a group artist show at Low Life Gallery on Waterloo Rd. in Cleveland.

Beachland Ballroom, Music Saves, Shoparooni, and...Low Life! You know how to get there and you KNOW you want to support all things local. So put down that whiskey bottle and stop beating your wife. Come to the Halloween Spooktacular and spend some money on local, Halloween-themed art. The lovely Phoebe Marie has 6 Halloween Dunnys in the show and I have one painting titled "Wasted Life With Disastrous Results" (I was a late entry...thanks Dave...and am not on the flyer). Many (if not all???) works are priced for sale.

And even if you don't buy anything (cheapskates), you can admire it. In FACT you can admire it from tonight through November 3rd. But tonight is the opening reception...from 7:00 to 10:00... so why put it off? I know I'll be there. So be there.

When you're around me...I'm somebody else.

I hate Pink Floyd. And Rush. I hate, HATE Rush. It doesn't matter to me if your drum kit has 23 pieces or whatever. If your band is downright awful, no amount of drum kit options are going to help you escape from life in Suckville or Misery Town.

So where was I at 8:00p last night? Sleeping off the sleeping pill that I took to help me sleep Tuesday night! That little, tiny bastard was a MACHINE! It lasted 24 exhausting hours and made me feel like one of those coma victims that can hear everything going on around them but can't react!!

I once knew a girl who contracted some disease after being chomped by a mosquito and it out her into a coma for 2 weeks. She could hear everyone talking to her at all times, being encouraged to do so by her doctor. She said she just wanted to SCREAM for them to shut the Hell up! When she finally came out of the coma, she had trouble controlling the speed of her speech. That was me yesterday. Mosquito bite-enduced coma victim.

"Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" has so much potential to rock my drawers off, that it will probably suck the will to live out of me. I should stopped getting psyched about it right now and spare myself the disappointment. I'd see it Friday after the art show and get it over with if I wasn't in the red right now. Probably for the best.

Watched half of the "Sex and The City" movie last night...again. Saw it in theaters with Phoebe but wasn't paying much attention. It was the night after a fight via text...and I would learn until later what ELSE was going on that night. Regardless, watching it at home, in my bed, in the dark, in a foul mood...the scene where Carrie learns that Big isn't coming to the wedding...I wanted to roll over and throw up. It's sad. I don't want to be left at the alter...or at the library, which is where Carrie was. But with my luck...

My mood? Still rancid. Thanks.

You'll never get another fix.

"Blather, kill, rot, kill, die, die. Die! Die! Die!"

The above, verbally heavy sentence was brought to you by my mood, which was hopefully brought to you by my forthcoming period. I say "hopefully" because with the luck I've had recently, well, fingers-n-toes-n-eyes are crossed that nothing (or no one) is growing where it shouldn't be! But like I said, with the luck I've had recently...rot.

My mood can only be labled as "suck-o". I haven't slept a good night's sleep in weeks now. Even with the assistance of sleeping pills. And speaking of sleeping pills, this little bastard does NOT want to leave my system! Since I shuffled into the can this morning, I've been asleep with my eyes opened. I feel drugged, which I guess I am. But should I still feel like a non-action slug almost 19 hours later?? Was that pill meant to enduce a COMA?! Doing things zombie-style leads to many mistakes. Many mistakes lead to today feeling like "Groundhog's Day". I'm irritable. A bright yellow catalog on my desk is taunting me. I may set it on fire. I may set YOU on fire.

Oh money? Yeah, totally at odds with that stupid shit.

The Halloween Spooktacular opens at Low Life Gallery on Waterloo (by The Beachland Ballroom and Shopparooni) this Friday. The pre-Halloween party is from 6-10p. I have one piece in it that is tentatively called "Girl With Wasted Life Eats Own Stomach With Disastrous Results". I'm sure it's not the most mind-blowing thing you'll even see but I didn't paint it to be artsy. I painted it to make myself laugh. And I did. Case closed. Hope to see some of your smiling faces on Friday but if you're too cool for art show receptions, the show runs through November 2nd. I only have one piece in the show so I'm sure no one will die if they don't see it. I pretyy much guarantee they won't.