I Want to Blah Blah Blog
But I can't.
I've been moving all weekends. Props to Cindy Lou. I said I internet hated her and she still offered her services. Unfortunately the moving was complicated... people were moving in as I was moving out and I had to keep explaing what was mine and what was most, fucking definately, not. Hello? Do I look like I still play with dinosaurs?
I am so into comic books.
Plus I had three piles, the donation pile, the storage pile, and the going with me pile.
Understadably no one was very keen on helping me, and plus, everytime I imagined someone helping me I thought of all the explaining I would have to and the unnecessary gunfire. Shit. I'll just do it myself.
So little miss do it herself has now been up for thirty six hours. No nap. No drugs. I want to blog. I want to read up on your lives, your rants, your attempts at humor (which always make ME laugh my ass off) and. Eh. You get the point.
UP FOR THIRTY SIX HOURS... what the fuck was I writing about?
Tomorrow you can bet I'm gonna be stalking your asses. Fully rested. You have been warned.
**fuck I'm leaving the typos in this post to attest to my brain slur.
I've been moving all weekends. Props to Cindy Lou. I said I internet hated her and she still offered her services. Unfortunately the moving was complicated... people were moving in as I was moving out and I had to keep explaing what was mine and what was most, fucking definately, not. Hello? Do I look like I still play with dinosaurs?
I am so into comic books.
Plus I had three piles, the donation pile, the storage pile, and the going with me pile.
Understadably no one was very keen on helping me, and plus, everytime I imagined someone helping me I thought of all the explaining I would have to and the unnecessary gunfire. Shit. I'll just do it myself.
So little miss do it herself has now been up for thirty six hours. No nap. No drugs. I want to blog. I want to read up on your lives, your rants, your attempts at humor (which always make ME laugh my ass off) and. Eh. You get the point.
UP FOR THIRTY SIX HOURS... what the fuck was I writing about?
Tomorrow you can bet I'm gonna be stalking your asses. Fully rested. You have been warned.
**fuck I'm leaving the typos in this post to attest to my brain slur.
