Twenty-four hour play starts tonight at nine. Last term, I was excited about doing it. Right now, at this current moment, I'm just sort of feeling...meh. It'll come, it'll happen, and everybody else involved is much more pumped than I am. It's like this:

Everyone Else: "TWENTYFOURHOURPLAYWOOOOOOOO!!!! EVENTOFTHECENTURY!!!"
Me: "..." << wrapped ( Read more... )

"I understand that Scissors can beat Paper, and I get how Rock can beat Scissors, but there's no fucking way Paper can beat Rock. Paper is supposed to magically wrap around Rock leaving it immobile? Why the hell cant paper do this to scissors? Screw scissors, why can't paper do this to people? Why aren't sheets of college ruled notebook paper ( Read more... )

So, I just deleted a double handful of y'all from my friends list. But that's okay, really, it's your fault. You didn't update, ever. So we'd still be all happy-like if you wrote. If you think I'm wrong and a terrible person for deleting you, you can whinge about it all you like here. However, since none of those journals were updated in over ( Read more... )

http://www.savetoby.com/

Like my brother says...

Josh (11:22:32 PM): i wish i was half this brilliant

Granted, it's a ripoff of http://www.krohm.net/bernd.htm but I think it's actually done better.

Pacifism is the wave of something-or-other.

In World of Warcraft, the trolls...they have Jamaican accents. I don't...I don't understand. The dwarves have Scottish accents, I get that, and everyone else is either nondescript or Louis Armstrong-ish, that's fine too. But Jamaican trolls? I'm at a loss.

The weather forecast right around now amounts to FUCKING COLD. Would somebody do something about that, please, until I can move to New Mexico?

In other news, World of Warcraft came. So long, real life.

I win again.

So, in the only real update of my winter, I'm at home, I'm bored silly, and I hate hate hate my job. Also, I seem to be bleeding to death through my fingertips. Any comments, concerns, or knives in the back, you can call me at home 413.834.2702.

Love,
Erin

You know what I hate? Saying goodbye to people before I'm good and ready to. And cleaning up after Casey, I hate that too. Although, I did get a kickin' typewriter and stylin' executive chair out of it. I also hate that Hauer left his fridge for me to store for him, and neither defrosted nor cleaned up the spilled spaghetti sauce that was all ( Read more... )