This "getting lost" shit is startin' to become a real bad habit of mine. Next time I decide to go anymore than ten feet from home, someone better hold my fucking hand.

P.S. Who turned up the damn heat?

So I guess doing some exploring on my own in a place like this wasn't exactly the most brilliant idea I've ever had-- not that I remember most of my other ideas, but what the fuck ever. Whoops ( Read more... )

Wait, so-- what? Did somebody fucking die? Floyd has Crow's glasses? And my wish, holy shit. Am I the only one who is confused off my ass?

In a nutshell: The fuck is going on?

Crow?

(Strikes are legible with some squinting, and only lazily scribbled over, like usual.)

How the fuck are you supposed to decide what to wish for when you don't know anything? Geez, it's like telling a three-year-old to make a birthday wish.

Maybe I'll wish for a smiley face to appear on Crow's penis.

(Strikes legible with work, though carelessly scribbled over.)

His name is not Cuddles-fuckin'-worth, 'kay? That is zero percent bad-ass, and I'm not even good at math.

Mission: Better name for the goddamn elephant. And resist naming it Booze.

(Written in a careless lefty scrawl that tends to be in slightly crooked lines across, rather than perfectly horizontal.)

So. I thought about introducing myself as Bad-Ass Motherfucker, but just writing that once makes my hand want to fucking cramp up.

In fact, y'know what? This whole damn place makes my brain want to cramp up, and that's ( Read more... )

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