"...He Carries Them All Over The Town, At Least He Tries- Oh, Look, It's Stopped Snowing..."
Methinks there's only one way of adaquately describing this:
OMGWTFBBQ!?!!12?!!
It's raining outside and I have work at 5 tonight. My shoes are made of canvas and I'm lacking an umbrella. Also, Blake isn't working tonight and thus no comical relief and bantering. Blaaaaaaaaaaaargh.
And I haven't even really begun work on that Joyce essay. My father's commencing to roll in his grave, on the verge of disowning me.
Wooha. Am still petty and bitter. Yet am intensely enjoying my love affair with The Faint. And Desperate Guys. Oh, that first inconceivable touch.