8,003
Hullo, you bastards.
No one's updated except LC and hers was strudel-related and therefore not counted.
So here's goes me.
I've decided not to do the writing of the number of days left thing because people bitch me about it and I forgot how many were left anyway and it's not worth working out again.
Wow, goon flashback. Horror.
Anyway. Now I might start counting up, as in how many day's I've lived. But that'd just suck, somehow. Maybe I'll do how many words I've written in my large story. Refuse to call it a novel because it's not. Yet.
My head still hurts from saturday's Migraine-O'-Doom. Hurts lots.
Got up and moseyed about. Now my stomach hurts. Lots. Like back in the day. Ow.
Feels like my stomach is contracting violently and then expanding until it stretches itself then snapping back into normality. Bad description. Hurts. I wrote 520 words the other night, post production.
The proddy-C was quite good, just enough fuck-ups to make it good, but few enough that the whole thing wasn't terribly compromised.
'Eternal life, is now on my trail, got my red glitter coffin, I just need one last nail...'
I need to write a novel. Yes. Not wanting to pull a Giuseppe-Handicappedness, but I think, at the moment, that it's my best bet for making money in ze world. I fucking hope it is, anyway.
Went to school for all of two hours today. Big fat waste of time. Went to english, linc wasn't there. We had the gay John guy, who forgot Tatum's name again, then everyone just sloped off to the library. I chilled with Barry and Giuseppe and JC and Lachy all block. Didn't write. Still haven't done science assignment. Fuckaduck. But yeah, then I discovered outdoor ed was off. So I came home. Most unproductive day evAR.
Although, I did do a psych survey for the chick MC from the writers night. And may or may not have accidently seemed to give her a once-over when she first walked over. Because I didn't realise it was her and I just sort of turned round and then it was her and I looked down and then went oops and looked up. But yeah. She was too nervous to notice, methinks. Hope so =P
*air-guitars to Van Halen's "Eruption", despite stomach hurt*
Damn. Never can resist that one.
Much like some other things, then.
No one's updated except LC and hers was strudel-related and therefore not counted.
So here's goes me.
I've decided not to do the writing of the number of days left thing because people bitch me about it and I forgot how many were left anyway and it's not worth working out again.
Wow, goon flashback. Horror.
Anyway. Now I might start counting up, as in how many day's I've lived. But that'd just suck, somehow. Maybe I'll do how many words I've written in my large story. Refuse to call it a novel because it's not. Yet.
My head still hurts from saturday's Migraine-O'-Doom. Hurts lots.
Got up and moseyed about. Now my stomach hurts. Lots. Like back in the day. Ow.
Feels like my stomach is contracting violently and then expanding until it stretches itself then snapping back into normality. Bad description. Hurts. I wrote 520 words the other night, post production.
The proddy-C was quite good, just enough fuck-ups to make it good, but few enough that the whole thing wasn't terribly compromised.
'Eternal life, is now on my trail, got my red glitter coffin, I just need one last nail...'
I need to write a novel. Yes. Not wanting to pull a Giuseppe-Handicappedness, but I think, at the moment, that it's my best bet for making money in ze world. I fucking hope it is, anyway.
Went to school for all of two hours today. Big fat waste of time. Went to english, linc wasn't there. We had the gay John guy, who forgot Tatum's name again, then everyone just sloped off to the library. I chilled with Barry and Giuseppe and JC and Lachy all block. Didn't write. Still haven't done science assignment. Fuckaduck. But yeah, then I discovered outdoor ed was off. So I came home. Most unproductive day evAR.
Although, I did do a psych survey for the chick MC from the writers night. And may or may not have accidently seemed to give her a once-over when she first walked over. Because I didn't realise it was her and I just sort of turned round and then it was her and I looked down and then went oops and looked up. But yeah. She was too nervous to notice, methinks. Hope so =P
*air-guitars to Van Halen's "Eruption", despite stomach hurt*
Damn. Never can resist that one.
Much like some other things, then.