This journal is now closed.

Aye, I'm horrible, I'm horrible. My excuse? I was abducted by aliens from the planet Vargon, sent back to earth by post, possessed by poltergeists in Glasgow castles, excorsised by Leslie Neilson, and bathed. And the Vargonian king says he's not pleased with Earth's pop boybands. Save our world, stop them from making music, please ( Read more... )

[Playing it safe. I'm not Sean Biggerstaff, I don't know him or his family/friends/management/alter-egos, and I am not in possession of his kilt. But seriously, I'm not. This journal is fiction. Please read this.]

Life has been nothing out of the usual this past week, around. If there were any changes during this time, they would be the contents of my refridgerator. Cleaned it out yesterday, and I discovered a bag of jelly beans bought in 2000. Naturally, I threw it along with most garbage, and some cheese. It actually was an emotional moment for me, as I ( Read more... )

I haven't been quite informative of what's happened to me of late, haven't I? Well, today all the mysteries of the Biggerstaff, for the week, shall be revealed. Pace yourselves for the breath-taking journey that is to.. never mind ( Read more... )

I'm excited about Halloween. The mere idea of scaring people looking like the most horrid things ever sends shivers down my spine like nothing else can. Therefore! Help me decide which mask to wear. This, this, this or this. Ahem.

He made me do ( this )

After a week, one would think I have something to write. Alas, I have but the following to say:

BIF IS COMING, BIF IS COMING, BIF IS COMING!

Nine months. If I had a uterus, it would have been a sufficient ammount of time to have a baby, but alas, I haven't one. And if I did, it wouldn't be good. Ahem..

Happy nine-month anniversary, love. I can tell there are many more of these to come.

The answers to some of the questions I've been asking myself for ages. Aye, my head.