(no subject)
Today my body is hell of sore. It is screaming like the lambs during the slaughter. It feels like Dresden circa 1945. Would you like to know more?
yardwork
Never has one word (when referring to suffering of this magnitude, any normally separate string of words MUST be combined. It should also be noted that, while tempting, you should never capitilize a word descriptive of utter horror lest you imbue it with yet more vigor) instilled in me such a feeling of abject dread. My hands are two sausage plants of pain, with five perfectly ripe petals apiece. Would you like to know more?
istillhavemoretodo
On the rapidly dwindling upside, the front looks like a real person yard, and I have a beautiful rosebush in bloom running up the chimney on the side of the house.
yardwork
Never has one word (when referring to suffering of this magnitude, any normally separate string of words MUST be combined. It should also be noted that, while tempting, you should never capitilize a word descriptive of utter horror lest you imbue it with yet more vigor) instilled in me such a feeling of abject dread. My hands are two sausage plants of pain, with five perfectly ripe petals apiece. Would you like to know more?
istillhavemoretodo
On the rapidly dwindling upside, the front looks like a real person yard, and I have a beautiful rosebush in bloom running up the chimney on the side of the house.