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I love my uni carpark. If you remember, I once saw a car with a "KWALSH" numberplate - on Wednesday not only did I see an "OTP" but also an "RPF". GLEEFUL IS I.
I've decided to watch The Notebook tonight in celebration of them. Except I'm really. tired. (it's been one of those weeks) so I might not get through it all. You know when you're really hyper and fangirly on the inside but just have no physical energy to show it and want to fall asleep in the middle of flailing? That's so me right now.
"Did he just call my baby Satan? Because I gotta be honest, sometimes I have the same thought." "Your baby isn't Satan." "He projectile vomits. And once, it was blue." Sanjay just makes that little Weeds spark brighter. I heart him and his oversized baby.
That love meme; I can't get through 49 pages of comments looking for people. Plus, it's reached maximum comments now, BUT: I totally would leave love for you if I could. KNOW THAT IT'S TRUE. ♥
I've heard there are Private Practice posters all over Manhattan. That's too cool.
The UN named Melbourne its second City of Literature, after Edinburgh became one in 2004. Huzzah! (This had to happen two months after I finished my publishing and book culture subject, didn't it? Oh well.) Also, we're joining the Woolies brigade, but like with Spencer St/Southern Cross, it'll take me five years to start calling it that out of habit.
Brian McFadden has made See You Again bearable for me, thanks to not having annoying voice in the verses. Also, dilemma: please don't take this the wrong way if you like her, but I detest Rihanna. I flick radio stations as soon as she comes on and want to punch someone. But I want to like Distubia (her voice doesn't really sound like her in it, so it's more bearable for me? And being co-written by Chris Brown doesn't hurt either) but I don't know if I can swallow my pride and allow myself to like it. WHATDOIDO.