Bank your orbs or gamble them in Fuzion Frenzy.
There's nothing more awesome than feeling that tremendous burst of indescribable happiness, when you were right in the midst of a mental shit-storm. Terribly trite to discuss? Yes. Do I give a fuck? Not in the least. You see, I'm a rather entitled cunt and I don't particularly enjoy adhering to obligations that bog me down with time constraints and heavy emotional baggage, especially towards people that really don't deserve my attention. No offense, gentle readers, but a lot of unnamed individuals have a tendency to expect some softcore porn fantasy out of JenJen, when in reality she'd rather read a book about ancient coquettes than cyberfuck them in Rhydin.
Also:
hi·a·tus
Function: noun
1 : a gap or interruption in space, time, or continuity; a break: "We are likely to be disconcerted by... hiatuses of thought." (Edmund Wilson).
I take them a lot! It provides an opportunity to place things into correct perspective instead of whining about the antisocial behavior of my fucking cat. I'm not compelled to inform the world of how many cups of raspberry ginger tea I drink per day, how my yin-yang earrings sometimes itch, and gosh, isn't the sunset just too, too, utterly utterly? OMG PLZ COMMENT ON AN OBSESSIVE BASIS OR ELSE YOU'RE NOT A TRUE BLUE FRIEND, KTHNX. Nigga puh-lease. In fact, this is the first entry in years where I feel like I truly don't have to reign my embittered inner child in. (Fucking around with Gameshark is a power trip, by the way. I feel like I can conquer the pixelated universe with mere digits!)
And that's not to say I don't care about people on the internet. I do! In fact, I despise it when people withhold the pretense of "Oh yeah, like an insult on the internet really cuts through me". I was talking about this with an (online) friend of six years. How can a person, hypothetically moderating five SomethingAwful.com communities, possibly convince me that they don't give a damn about online acceptance? Get off myspace if you're so detached from the realm of text! You see, the way I percieve it, is that communication is communication. If they're a dingleberry online, I naturally have to assume they're pig fucking half-wits offline too, except I'd actually have to look at their zitfaces in lieu of "X-ing" them out.
By the way, to keep things nice and sensible, this is what hair looks like after you condition it with mayonnaise:
Electric-socket Chic.
You know what the kicker to this entry is? That I updated in the first place because I felt compelled to update.
I haven't played Zombies Ate My Neighbors in a really long time. Sadface.
I'm struggling to think of a concluding sentence but am just seeming random and disjointed in the process.
FIN FOR NOW! OH BOY OH BOY! I LOVE YA'LL! And no, I won't calm down. Get over it.
Poll WTF?
Finesse.
Also:
hi·a·tus
Function: noun
1 : a gap or interruption in space, time, or continuity; a break: "We are likely to be disconcerted by... hiatuses of thought." (Edmund Wilson).
I take them a lot! It provides an opportunity to place things into correct perspective instead of whining about the antisocial behavior of my fucking cat. I'm not compelled to inform the world of how many cups of raspberry ginger tea I drink per day, how my yin-yang earrings sometimes itch, and gosh, isn't the sunset just too, too, utterly utterly? OMG PLZ COMMENT ON AN OBSESSIVE BASIS OR ELSE YOU'RE NOT A TRUE BLUE FRIEND, KTHNX. Nigga puh-lease. In fact, this is the first entry in years where I feel like I truly don't have to reign my embittered inner child in. (Fucking around with Gameshark is a power trip, by the way. I feel like I can conquer the pixelated universe with mere digits!)
And that's not to say I don't care about people on the internet. I do! In fact, I despise it when people withhold the pretense of "Oh yeah, like an insult on the internet really cuts through me". I was talking about this with an (online) friend of six years. How can a person, hypothetically moderating five SomethingAwful.com communities, possibly convince me that they don't give a damn about online acceptance? Get off myspace if you're so detached from the realm of text! You see, the way I percieve it, is that communication is communication. If they're a dingleberry online, I naturally have to assume they're pig fucking half-wits offline too, except I'd actually have to look at their zitfaces in lieu of "X-ing" them out.
By the way, to keep things nice and sensible, this is what hair looks like after you condition it with mayonnaise:
Electric-socket Chic.
You know what the kicker to this entry is? That I updated in the first place because I felt compelled to update.
I haven't played Zombies Ate My Neighbors in a really long time. Sadface.
I'm struggling to think of a concluding sentence but am just seeming random and disjointed in the process.
FIN FOR NOW! OH BOY OH BOY! I LOVE YA'LL! And no, I won't calm down. Get over it.
Poll WTF?
Finesse.