HOLY SHIT
HOW MUCH DO I LOVE SAM'S MANNEQUIN ARMS? A LOT. A LOT.
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For anyone interested, I will tell you this one very important thing about me: I am ... very family-oriented.
What does this mean? It means that in some ways I have the maturation of a spoiled kindergartener and don't like to share with outsiders (what can I say? I grew up very, very poor and very, very isolated, with just my mom and my sister. They were ... it, for a very long time and I don't like change. Yes, I know: issues, I haz them).
The bad part? My sister is A FUCKIN NUTTER. She's crazy. I used to say "tempestuous," but after the second time she almost got me killed (not counting ... other unpleasantnesses) I decided to just say "fuckin crazy, christ. Also, run."
See, like a good fucked up person, I keep my neuroses to myself. I don't go imposing them on people, because that's just not nice. I mean, I know I'm weird, no sense in making it a thing.
Where all this meets and mingles: I've been avoiding my sis lately, and have been terribly happy and productive as a result. She, however, called the other night, full-blown off her rocker and making shit up, and you know how when a sick person sneezes on you and you can, no lie, feel the germs settling in for a nice little one-on-one with your shitty immune system?
YEAH, you can just kinda feel her specfic brand of charismatic craziness seeping in over the airwaves or what the fuck ever.
... it wasn't until I hung up on her during her monologuing that I realized how much I had missed the adrenaline/terror/hero-worship/ridicule that pretty much describes my relationship with her. And I mean, really miss it - like, life is three shades grayer now and all that. /o\
HELP. ME.
Please.
Sorry for that, but I had to get it down somewhere before my brain broke under the strain of keeping that particular revelation to myself.
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\o///////////////
For anyone interested, I will tell you this one very important thing about me: I am ... very family-oriented.
What does this mean? It means that in some ways I have the maturation of a spoiled kindergartener and don't like to share with outsiders (what can I say? I grew up very, very poor and very, very isolated, with just my mom and my sister. They were ... it, for a very long time and I don't like change. Yes, I know: issues, I haz them).
The bad part? My sister is A FUCKIN NUTTER. She's crazy. I used to say "tempestuous," but after the second time she almost got me killed (not counting ... other unpleasantnesses) I decided to just say "fuckin crazy, christ. Also, run."
See, like a good fucked up person, I keep my neuroses to myself. I don't go imposing them on people, because that's just not nice. I mean, I know I'm weird, no sense in making it a thing.
Where all this meets and mingles: I've been avoiding my sis lately, and have been terribly happy and productive as a result. She, however, called the other night, full-blown off her rocker and making shit up, and you know how when a sick person sneezes on you and you can, no lie, feel the germs settling in for a nice little one-on-one with your shitty immune system?
YEAH, you can just kinda feel her specfic brand of charismatic craziness seeping in over the airwaves or what the fuck ever.
... it wasn't until I hung up on her during her monologuing that I realized how much I had missed the adrenaline/terror/hero-worship/ridicule that pretty much describes my relationship with her. And I mean, really miss it - like, life is three shades grayer now and all that. /o\
HELP. ME.
Please.
Sorry for that, but I had to get it down somewhere before my brain broke under the strain of keeping that particular revelation to myself.