The way you look at me is just not right.
I keep planning this huge post that would be like a little Sandra orgasm but it never happens. I seriously feel as if my life is wasting away and I am loving having no purpose in my life.
You know how you have those novels that strictly say a character gets bored if they don't have themselves planted in an establishment, blah blah. I shall oppose this view, bbs.
This is clearly propaganda. Who wouldn't want to lay on a coach and pig out without worrying about making it to an interview/class/work in thirty seconds? When I lay it like that I know it's hard to argue with me.
So don't.
My mission in life is to somehow figure out a way that I can continue to be lethargic and happy while looking cool. Kinda like Hugh Grant in About A Boy except a female version... with better hair.
I have been very insightful lately too. This is a result of my having no reason to have my procrastination interrupted by something as crass as, I dunno, school. That thing inhibits my education, really.
I have pondered...
Is there a sexy way to take off socks?
I have never seen this done well, or ever. I mean, nylons are a different thing, they don't remind you of the gym or sweat or stink unlike their cousins the THICK WOOLLY SOCKS that every person with a y chromosome posseses. Amirite?
Ripping them off with your teeth would do no good. I think people wear those socks in summer because they have baaaaaaaaaaad memories of athletes foot once upon a time. Keep them enclosed and you won't know.
So, ok, if there is no sexy way to get them off then that means the guy keeps them on, no? But that itself is v. anti-hot&bothered. Like I feel my vagina closing in on itself at the thought.
So, until someone convinces me otherwise, socks are the sex catch 22.
I don't know if I would prefer my guy having socks on while we are in the process of making babies or him wearing these:
grossgrossgross.
I have hated any variation of these *things* since I first saw them on Bug Juice in the 90's where EVERYONE was sporting a pair, some even had more than one in different shades.
Sometimes, in my nightmares, I see them. Condemnations of fashion. Coco Chanel thankfully never lived to see them.
Now, off that subject, let's progress to this:
God, this makes me want to see PS/SS so bad. They are so *tiny.* It's amazing that I probably looked the same at that time and spoke like a chipmunk.
They are like the Justin&Britney of their time. Matching outfits and all. D-Rad is at his peak here so I'll forgive him. ♥
So I really have no desire to read all the new information JKR keeps popping out in her interviews that she couldn't bother putting in her SEVEN books. I just wonder if she added a gallon of salt to the Pumpkin Pie ship's wounds so they keep festering. About the only thing that woman is attentive to.
Ok, sorry, I am releasing my ~*~bitterness~*~ forgive my harmonian soul.
Now, I was wondering if anyone could direct me over to the JKR interview where she mentioned Hermione's last name would be Puckle or something. I have an idea floating about my head centering around that and I need it to be confirmed.
Also, if you managed to be swayed to read Plastered and want to know what's happening with that, well, I have news for you.
See, the intention of that was to have something to do meanwhile I waited for DH. But I thought I'd wait 'til DH was out before I finished the fic so it can have new info. I am in the process of revising minor details in my mental "plot" line so it'll be DH compliant. Because, really, there's hardly any post-DH H/Hr fanfic out there. I might as well contribute.
Another demonstration of my being selfless. Bow down to me, Mother Teresa.
ETA: So my friends and I were discussing where we see ourselves in the future and they all couldn't figure out where I would belong.
Why they are puzzled is the question of the century. So place your bets and tell me what my future will be.
Please. At least give me an idea that I can plant in my barren field of productivity.
You know how you have those novels that strictly say a character gets bored if they don't have themselves planted in an establishment, blah blah. I shall oppose this view, bbs.
This is clearly propaganda. Who wouldn't want to lay on a coach and pig out without worrying about making it to an interview/class/work in thirty seconds? When I lay it like that I know it's hard to argue with me.
So don't.
My mission in life is to somehow figure out a way that I can continue to be lethargic and happy while looking cool. Kinda like Hugh Grant in About A Boy except a female version... with better hair.
I have been very insightful lately too. This is a result of my having no reason to have my procrastination interrupted by something as crass as, I dunno, school. That thing inhibits my education, really.
I have pondered...
Is there a sexy way to take off socks?
I have never seen this done well, or ever. I mean, nylons are a different thing, they don't remind you of the gym or sweat or stink unlike their cousins the THICK WOOLLY SOCKS that every person with a y chromosome posseses. Amirite?
Ripping them off with your teeth would do no good. I think people wear those socks in summer because they have baaaaaaaaaaad memories of athletes foot once upon a time. Keep them enclosed and you won't know.
So, ok, if there is no sexy way to get them off then that means the guy keeps them on, no? But that itself is v. anti-hot&bothered. Like I feel my vagina closing in on itself at the thought.
So, until someone convinces me otherwise, socks are the sex catch 22.
I don't know if I would prefer my guy having socks on while we are in the process of making babies or him wearing these:
grossgrossgross.
I have hated any variation of these *things* since I first saw them on Bug Juice in the 90's where EVERYONE was sporting a pair, some even had more than one in different shades.
Sometimes, in my nightmares, I see them. Condemnations of fashion. Coco Chanel thankfully never lived to see them.
Now, off that subject, let's progress to this:
God, this makes me want to see PS/SS so bad. They are so *tiny.* It's amazing that I probably looked the same at that time and spoke like a chipmunk.
They are like the Justin&Britney of their time. Matching outfits and all. D-Rad is at his peak here so I'll forgive him. ♥
So I really have no desire to read all the new information JKR keeps popping out in her interviews that she couldn't bother putting in her SEVEN books. I just wonder if she added a gallon of salt to the Pumpkin Pie ship's wounds so they keep festering. About the only thing that woman is attentive to.
Ok, sorry, I am releasing my ~*~bitterness~*~ forgive my harmonian soul.
Now, I was wondering if anyone could direct me over to the JKR interview where she mentioned Hermione's last name would be Puckle or something. I have an idea floating about my head centering around that and I need it to be confirmed.
Also, if you managed to be swayed to read Plastered and want to know what's happening with that, well, I have news for you.
See, the intention of that was to have something to do meanwhile I waited for DH. But I thought I'd wait 'til DH was out before I finished the fic so it can have new info. I am in the process of revising minor details in my mental "plot" line so it'll be DH compliant. Because, really, there's hardly any post-DH H/Hr fanfic out there. I might as well contribute.
Another demonstration of my being selfless. Bow down to me, Mother Teresa.
ETA: So my friends and I were discussing where we see ourselves in the future and they all couldn't figure out where I would belong.
Why they are puzzled is the question of the century. So place your bets and tell me what my future will be.
Please. At least give me an idea that I can plant in my barren field of productivity.