I just left you a rather rambly comment on your journal (and then the internet got all wonky and the screen froze and I nearly panicked because I had multiple incriminating windows open and asking my daddy for help would be a very bad thing) but it can be summed up with this: I have a broken brain, and I am even more insane than usual. I barely have the mental capacity for Stevie/Xabi, as evidenced by my inability to follow through on a crack plot bunny about them that I came up with yesterday even though I had several ideas in my head.
Also, I sacrificed all of my baseball icons for footie ones because I was angsty about the Mets and I figured I wouldn't talk about it much in the offseason but I vaguely regret that now. So that's why I used the Sheva icon.
(Something tells me that I didn't need to tell you that my brain is broken. It's probably rather apparent.)
Connected at the brain, as previously stated. Clearly we rock something wonderful.
Your broken brain makes me unbelievably sad, but it's an alliteration, so surely it can't be that bad. Literary devices = nicer life.
The S/X capacity will surely return soon. (Right?) Your Loyal Subjects will be very glad when that time comes. (I am officially naming myself Leader of Lisa's Loyal Subjects. And oh, how I wish subjects started with an L... How about Lisa's Loyal Liege(wo)men? Hi, I really have too much time on my hands, don't I.)
Footie is important. (See also: very important.) Sheva pretty much covers all the bases, anyway-- that boy has so many fab facial expressions. Dreamy sigh, etc!
I'm still sick. Or sicker, really. It involves lots of coughing (I cannot believe I almost typed "coffing"), which means lots of earl grey, so. I'm not complaining, per se.
It tells me that clearly you need some tape. Or glue. (Needle and thread?)
Don't jump off a bridge or I'll be all alone and that will suck and yes, I am guilttripping you into not committing suicide. Obviously I'm the best friend ever. (Even I can forgive you for killing him, 'cause you know. It was pretty brilliant! --Man, I so belong on jury duty in a murder case.) (Crack!fic involving vampires and porn. God, I'm sold already!)
Tuesday is Halloweeeeeeeeen! Not that that really matters, but whatever. It felt important. (Poldi alone makes the match worth watching. Lahmi and Olli are bonuses. Basti's out 'cause of... suspension? I've forgotten.) Anyway, I'm totally going to try and catch it. We can gush together!
Or cement, or caramel, or a really pretty scarf. (I am not even trying to filter the insanity anymore. Take it or leave it, dear!)
But I can so counter your guilt trip with "But I am a bad person and you would be better off without me," and then you would be up a creek. Erm, or I would, if that's what the bridge was over. ("Your honor, we find the defendant not guilty, because while she obviously was the murderer, we must admire her poetic ability to execute it." Or maybe execute wouldn't be the best word.) (I have a thing for blood, as evidenced by the fact that a pic of Brain McBride after the USA-Italy match is STILL over my bed, even thought there have been many disparaging comments about it. No one appreciates my obsessions.)
Poldi, oh how I love thee.
I don't drink tea. I ama hot chocolate girl.
My mother just called me upstairs for a very pointless thing and thus I had to close all of my windows. The woman is not my favorite person at the moment.
askdfkaj, that snort was really unattractive, wasn't it? Why such a dork, self. (Wow, that's been there since, um. What feels like ages! But it's bloody!McBride, so it's totally deserved.)
No tea? No gummi thingys? Hot cocoa is good, but I dunno if it can cover both of those very important foodstuffs. (Tea = 3, gummi thingys = 1, coca = 2. Ergo: 3 + 1 != 2. Diagnosis: drink tea.)
Hey, at least she's given up that chair, right? And randomly, but on the subject of parents, my dad basically blew a pretty shiny penny on a fireplace today. Totally out of nowhere, too. And, you know, not my place to pass judgment and all, but um. So completely frivolous.
Or pudding, or a hat, or. . . All I can think of right now is the idiocy of sports fans who throw beer bottles on the field because they don't even realize that while they are aiming for the opposing team they might just hit someone they're rooting for
( ... )
Imagine what it would be like to sit next to the Guy That Knocked Our Quarterback Out. I'd say it wouldn't be very fun, particularly if you were related to him and therefore looked a lot like him. Angry fans would not discriminate.
It made complete sense! I am capable of that sometimes, and this was one of those times. (I am so lying. Is it working?)
We have that Christmas tree problem, too. It's sort of plateaued now, though, as it seems as if our tree gets smaller every year. (That's kind of sad to actually type. Woe.)
We have a fake tree so it's the same size every year. I am still bitter about not having a real one even though it has been several years since we got one. I understand that my mother breaks out every time she touches real trees and all but I still end up a little grumpy when we put up the tree. This leads to my mother trying to placate me with a tiny real tree for my room which I always kill because I forget to water it and then I have pine needles all over my floor for months and I still don't care. But I can't tell you just how much I am looking forward to the Christmas season. I think it's because of the lack of everything else but I adore the music and socks and CANDY CANES. I consume those at alarming rates in December.
I'm not sure why I am bringing this up exactly but I had left you a comment regarding, erm, the hips of a certain footballer here. The thing is, I was bored at work the other night and the girl I was with practically forced me to goof off so I ended up actually looking inside the aforementioned magazine
( ... )
Is your fake tree scented? I think that is the height of sadness, trying to bottle the scent of pine needles. Or maybe it's just the height of sadness because the one year we tried it, I got really crappy presents. I was quite impressionable in my younger years. (Or still am, maybe, but I digress.) I love candy canes and Santa's White Christmas ice cream and the music unless it's in department stores, in which case I retch repeatedly and cannot function properly for days to follow. (This is why I attempt to accomplish my Christmas shopping in October/early November. I am so failing at that this year
( ... )
I so suck at Christmas shopping. Inevitably it will be two days before the big day and my mother will still be badgering me about what to get my siblings. Luckily that's all I have have to worry about as my mother is so anal about gifts, etc. that she takes care of everything else INCLUDING her own. And then she gets pissed off when we don't surprise her, but that's a whole 'nother story entirely
( ... )
( ... )
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Also, I sacrificed all of my baseball icons for footie ones because I was angsty about the Mets and I figured I wouldn't talk about it much in the offseason but I vaguely regret that now. So that's why I used the Sheva icon.
(Something tells me that I didn't need to tell you that my brain is broken. It's probably rather apparent.)
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Your broken brain makes me unbelievably sad, but it's an alliteration, so surely it can't be that bad. Literary devices = nicer life.
The S/X capacity will surely return soon. (Right?) Your Loyal Subjects will be very glad when that time comes. (I am officially naming myself Leader of Lisa's Loyal Subjects. And oh, how I wish subjects started with an L... How about Lisa's Loyal Liege(wo)men? Hi, I really have too much time on my hands, don't I.)
Footie is important. (See also: very important.) Sheva pretty much covers all the bases, anyway-- that boy has so many fab facial expressions. Dreamy sigh, etc!
I'm still sick. Or sicker, really. It involves lots of coughing (I cannot believe I almost typed "coffing"), which means lots of earl grey, so. I'm not complaining, per se.
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Don't jump off a bridge or I'll be all alone and that will suck and yes, I am guilttripping you into not committing suicide. Obviously I'm the best friend ever. (Even I can forgive you for killing him, 'cause you know. It was pretty brilliant! --Man, I so belong on jury duty in a murder case.) (Crack!fic involving vampires and porn. God, I'm sold already!)
Tuesday is Halloweeeeeeeeen! Not that that really matters, but whatever. It felt important. (Poldi alone makes the match worth watching. Lahmi and Olli are bonuses. Basti's out 'cause of... suspension? I've forgotten.) Anyway, I'm totally going to try and catch it. We can gush together!
Yes, ma'am. But you can't take my tea from me!
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But I can so counter your guilt trip with "But I am a bad person and you would be better off without me," and then you would be up a creek. Erm, or I would, if that's what the bridge was over. ("Your honor, we find the defendant not guilty, because while she obviously was the murderer, we must admire her poetic ability to execute it." Or maybe execute wouldn't be the best word.) (I have a thing for blood, as evidenced by the fact that a pic of Brain McBride after the USA-Italy match is STILL over my bed, even thought there have been many disparaging comments about it. No one appreciates my obsessions.)
Poldi, oh how I love thee.
I don't drink tea. I ama hot chocolate girl.
My mother just called me upstairs for a very pointless thing and thus I had to close all of my windows. The woman is not my favorite person at the moment.
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askdfkaj, that snort was really unattractive, wasn't it? Why such a dork, self. (Wow, that's been there since, um. What feels like ages! But it's bloody!McBride, so it's totally deserved.)
No tea? No gummi thingys? Hot cocoa is good, but I dunno if it can cover both of those very important foodstuffs. (Tea = 3, gummi thingys = 1, coca = 2. Ergo: 3 + 1 != 2. Diagnosis: drink tea.)
Hey, at least she's given up that chair, right? And randomly, but on the subject of parents, my dad basically blew a pretty shiny penny on a fireplace today. Totally out of nowhere, too. And, you know, not my place to pass judgment and all, but um. So completely frivolous.
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It made complete sense! I am capable of that sometimes, and this was one of those times. (I am so lying. Is it working?)
We have that Christmas tree problem, too. It's sort of plateaued now, though, as it seems as if our tree gets smaller every year. (That's kind of sad to actually type. Woe.)
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I'm not sure why I am bringing this up exactly but I had left you a comment regarding, erm, the hips of a certain footballer here. The thing is, I was bored at work the other night and the girl I was with practically forced me to goof off so I ended up actually looking inside the aforementioned magazine ( ... )
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