-
&12;
While you're all still alive, help me think up a nursery rhyme for this virus.
Damn dependence on technology.
{ooc; strike hackable} -
&11;
That was my favorite cane. That was my bitchin' flames cane. Do you know what you've done?
No, I don't think so.
Payback is just as much of a bitch as I am; two can play at this game. -
&10;
Where the hell is Cuddy? I expect a bonus for pretending to care about her. -
&09;
Now I'm a believer.
Left shoulder dislocated, multiple lacerations and damaged pride?. Let's try to stay alive, people.
Spending the next twenty-four hours here, Chex Mix?
{ooc; strikes are tough to hack.} -
&08;
You know, I have a hunch that someone just died right outside this apartment. Que será será.
Because it's apparent that you all need it (and I have nothing better to do than to wait on all of you [but Cuddy's ass is looking particularly starable and rather distracting]),
Obligatory (not really, that word just looks cool) doctor's check-up sign up -
&07;
I expect several pieces of coal on my makeshift desk within the next forty-eight hours, people. Don't disappoint me. -
&06;
As if the B.O. isn't enough. -
&05;
I can't still be here. The battery shower was the last symbol of this dream. I should be experiencing a mild case of deja vu via an LSD-abusing patient right now.
... Wasteland ibuprofen. Nothing else like it because there is nothing like it. -
&04;
I might move her stuff back to where it was out of pity. I might. -
&03;
Oops! Moved some of her stuff!
I heard the forecast calls for rain. Who's building the ark?
Oh, the lies that people tell~.
{ooc; oopsing due to harriet torturing.}