subdued is the word, marcy.

mar told. hardly anyone but her and daz have been out. it's too scary.

i want pot roast.

whoosha daddy?

mar thinks i'm depressed, so she re-activated my journal for me. to get me to talk or something.

that was definitely more than 30 days.

"The editor responsible for entries under this heading has been out to lunch for a couple of years but is expected back soon, at which point there will be rapid updates. Until then, don't panic, unless your situation is really a life or death one, in which case, sure, go ahead, panic." - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy game

Mar dyed her hair today! Her first time dying solo (me and Ian don't count as help). I kept her repeating that if Darren (the real one) could do this by himself in a hotel bathroom after a long day on Politically Incorrect and with a low-grade fever, then she could do by herself in her kitchen, dammit ( Read more... )

mar just sent an e-mail to the people that put that ad in the stranger looking for a vocalist. we all have our fingers crossed that they'll be kind in rejecting her.

for, despite richter scale measurements of approximately 6.8, i am fine. a bit bruised, on account of my fall from the cd tower, but fine. i've fallen from it before.

but this time i requested that i be able to stay on mar's bed for a while. it's safer and softer there.

plastic jesus didn't even fall over.

:::has sweetart hearts:::

:::is, therefore, better than you:::

mar's dad is cleaning the garage. moving things around that have stood in one place since before i was born, since mar can remember. he's probably running on redirected energy that in the past would have been used on yelling at us or beating up on mar's personal electronics ( Read more... )

donald duck was a nazi?

nope. just a nightmare. phew.

:::accidentally heils a donkey's hindquarters:::