Let 'er rip. or R.I.P. Either one.

Yes, I have already been nagged by a certain blond imp about the necessity of responding to some (not all, SOME) comments on the last post; but since I have a lot going on tonight, instead I am just going to open up this empty room for spillover, and TRY (not a commitment) to get back to the other place later or tomorrow. Or sometime. Probably. ( Read more... )

As I said in the old place, I am done there. I hope I don't get bitched out much more this weekend. But hey, knock yourselves out. Just don't ask me to open any more veins.

Since Justin and Lady Jane fucked up the other thread, here's a new place.

One rule: No smoking. Or discussion of smoking. Or list of smoking-related diseases. Or personal endorsements of The Patch and that fucking gum shit.

Otherwise, knock yourselves out.

...or as caught up as I intend to be. So, I'm not conscientious and "nice" and suckuppy like Justin, who is going back to the beginning of time to answer everybody. Not I. Instead I am starting a clean slate HERE.

These journal pages fill up fucking quickly. And "fucking quickly" is seldom a good thing.

I will go respond to some people in the other place (what else have I got to do? while Justin and I give each other "space"). But first I am making this new place, since the previous one will go into that despised outline format any minute.

Why can't the fucking journal just expand as needed? Makes me crazy.

Crazier.

new place. blah-blah.

Today's page is about to go into that fucking outline format which I loathe. If you MUST talk to me or each other, do it here now.

I know it's coming; why not create a space for it?

Yes, I am a bastard who wronged poor widdle Justy AGAIN. But remember: The lad can fucking well give back whatever shit I dish out. And he does.