I know, right? It's totally an excuse to spend a little more time in bed, when a bored child-god drums on the steel rooftops with a billion tiny wet hands. It makes a nice sound, from in here.
That one's slightly recycled; I wrote this last August.
"The rain comes down in buckets and tubfuls here, thrown by a million bored godlings working on their baseball pitch. It bounces off a thousand metal roofs and makes a racket that fills the rest of the air and roars into every window."
And hope on that 20%. Although sounds like you need to spend a day in bed, instead.
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I know, right? It's totally an excuse to spend a little more time in bed, when a bored child-god drums on the steel rooftops with a billion tiny wet hands. It makes a nice sound, from in here.
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And possibly write a book full of amazing metaphors and analogies?
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"The rain comes down in buckets and tubfuls here, thrown by a million bored godlings working on their baseball pitch. It bounces off a thousand metal roofs and makes a racket that fills the rest of the air and roars into every window."
Wherefore need I live in India next, dear heart?
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Live for the bovine, mind. Live for the bovine.
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I heard the veggie options are better over there, myself.
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But the bovine get first pick. And they always take the best apples.
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Man now I want apples. And breakfast.
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Apple pie? :c
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Woke up at 7, get up at 10.30? Yah. Rainy Saturday.
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Oh ew, I have to, today's a day for the post office. I s'pose.
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Then crawl back in and get the proper sort of soaked: in a tub.
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And happy Sunday.
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I believe in you, Lina. You will slay monstuhs both without and within, and with a whole lot of us rooting for you the whole time, to boot.
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