Label the Figure


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Livejournal, ey? Mine seems quite dead to me. I was reading through past entries, and I'm retarded. I hate typos, and I make them frequently. Of course I don't care enough to proof read, and if I did I'm just too damn lazy ( Read more... )

Me: I wonder if fish ever get bored...
Random Indian woman wearing a lime colored salwar kameez: No they don't...
Me: (Unexpected reaction) Oh...
Random Indian woman: We keep them happy all day long.
Me: I don't know if I believe that, but I never thought of it that way.


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They hold hands and walk. As they walk they dance, as they dance they run, as they run they trip over a curb and fall into oncoming traffic, as the lay in the path of on coming traffic they scream, as they scream they are met by the front end of a '67 Buick. They stop screaming.

The waitress brings the chicken stir-fry and my lemon meringue pie and fills our coffee cups. Then she smiles and goes off to die.

So I got my sumation... the ending I said I could be happy with. Except I'm not. Surprise. People always want "more". We're discusting. I'm no different. I knew better too; I think I like killing myself. Slowly killing. Giving me pre-mature wrinkles and grey hairs. You've all seen me with white hair. And I look hot, I admit... but my intent wasn't ( Read more... )

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Elogio per voi, infinito il nostro dio, sovrano dell'universo, per l'introduzione di vita, per la nostra esistenza, e per la presa noi a questo giorno.
(Quello sta andando essere il mio tatuaggio.)

La notte passata era bizzarra... Ragazza pazzesca. Perch lui? In ogni modo, amo la gente che gioca il piano.

Weird.

Your mama's dildo found it's way in to the back seat of my car... why?