I'm grumpy. Why?

One.

Two.

Three.

Four. This would be good if their reasoning wasn't totally fucked ( Read more... )

1. Are your parents married or divorced? My biological parents were never married in the first place. My mom and my stepdad are still married, and my stepdad has been more of parent than my actual father ever has.

2. Vegetarian? For 11 years, except for tiny breaks where I ate chicken. They're nasty animals, but I feel bad eating them anyhow ( Read more... )

I've never wanted to get my ears pierced before, but I do now so I can wear these. This is going to sound very geeky, but my first thought was, "They look like something a Troll or Night Elf would wear in WoW ( Read more... )

Moving sucks. I do believe it is one of my least favorite things in the world. Neil complains about the amount of crap I have, and I do indeed have a dismaying collection of objects that serve no real purpose. I also have an impressive amount of clothing for someone so po'. And for someone who alternates between the same two pairs of jeans and ( Read more... )

Waking up yesterday was a big mistake.

I am not at all in the the Christmas spirit.

The only presents I've bought have been a sleeping bag for my sister (she's embarrassed to take her Rugrats one to sleepovers), a blowtorch for my mom, and Kurt Vonnegut's A Man Without a Country for my grandpa. I've also knit a hat and scarf for my sister, as well as a sweater for my mom (the knitting ( Read more... )

Dude, I am so stoned.

I mean, really.

Okay, I just typed a ginormous entry and deleted it, deciding it would probably be best to wait until I'm not stoned.

I'm really sorry. I'm sure I'm depriving you all of some very amusing shit.

My typing doesn't suffer this way when I'm drunk.

This came in the mail today.

Someone just advised me to drink a bottle of wine and then write a short story about having sex with a donkey.

One of those things I will probably end up doing.

I think the person having sex with the donkey will probably die at the end.

"It is during her periods that she feels her body most painfully as an obscure, alien thing; it is, indeed, the prey of a stubborn and foreign life that each month constructs and then tears down a cradle within it; each month all things are made ready for a child then aborted in the crimson flow. Woman, like man, is her body; but her body is ( Read more... )