Warning- gratuitus use of coarse language and Capslock ahead.
FUCKING DAMMIT TO FUCKING HELL!
ALL SIX FUCKING LEVELS OF HELL!
RIGHT DOWN TO THE DEEPEST DARKEST FUCKIEST FUCKING LEVEL OF HELL DAMMIT!
WHY THE HELL do ALL MY EMAILS TO THIS MAN KEEP COMING BACK TO ME?!
Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit...
Damn that bastard for leaving me. Damn him.
Gods, I need him so bad... gonna fucking kill him when I see him... but I need him so fucking bad.
[sigh]
In other news, I got the third installment of the inheritance money from Grandma... and the oldest sister's twins called me "Uncle" for the first time over the phone.
I called them up to wish them a happy second birthday, and they go, "YAAAAY! UNCA STICKY!" Haha. Sticky. I'm a twig. Awesome.
They're so cute; adorable, both of them. Makes me wanna find a willing uterus to artificially inseminate... hey, they have those kinds of willing freaks around here, right? Xiggy has been considering fatherhood...
Psh...
-He- would laugh. I can hear his rumbling chuckles and feel him punch me in the shoulder for such a comment... or the spine, depending on if I were sitting next to him or infront of him. He'd probably call me something like, "Stupid" or something, and put his hands behind his head to lean back and look off in another direction with a contented sigh.
Wow, someone might think I was a stalker. Or knew him probably too well for my own good. If he ever joined the CIA, I'd be dead. Hear me? D-e-d, ded. I know waaaaay too much about his hot ass.
Ah, well.
I can't find my rifles, which is odd because I specifically remember not only locking the gun case but replacing the glass with steel and bolting it shut before chaining and even welding the doors shut. I'm protective of my boom-sticks. Piss off, fuckers. But guess what? The guns aren't there! The cabinet is COMPLETELY empty. Shells and all. At least they were considerate enough to leave the boxes behind so I know what brand to buy to replace them.
So, yeah, I have to either buy new guns or find the bastard that stole them. Highly unlikely, either one of those. I have yet to see a gun shop. I have yet to see a pet shop (need to replace my broken filter on my tank). I have yet to see anywhere to buy groceries! *pokes ramen stash, which is dwindling at a depressing speed* I shall starve soon, I think...
ALL SIX FUCKING LEVELS OF HELL!
RIGHT DOWN TO THE DEEPEST DARKEST FUCKIEST FUCKING LEVEL OF HELL DAMMIT!
WHY THE HELL do ALL MY EMAILS TO THIS MAN KEEP COMING BACK TO ME?!
Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit...
Damn that bastard for leaving me. Damn him.
Gods, I need him so bad... gonna fucking kill him when I see him... but I need him so fucking bad.
[sigh]
In other news, I got the third installment of the inheritance money from Grandma... and the oldest sister's twins called me "Uncle" for the first time over the phone.
I called them up to wish them a happy second birthday, and they go, "YAAAAY! UNCA STICKY!" Haha. Sticky. I'm a twig. Awesome.
They're so cute; adorable, both of them. Makes me wanna find a willing uterus to artificially inseminate... hey, they have those kinds of willing freaks around here, right? Xiggy has been considering fatherhood...
Psh...
-He- would laugh. I can hear his rumbling chuckles and feel him punch me in the shoulder for such a comment... or the spine, depending on if I were sitting next to him or infront of him. He'd probably call me something like, "Stupid" or something, and put his hands behind his head to lean back and look off in another direction with a contented sigh.
Wow, someone might think I was a stalker. Or knew him probably too well for my own good. If he ever joined the CIA, I'd be dead. Hear me? D-e-d, ded. I know waaaaay too much about his hot ass.
Ah, well.
I can't find my rifles, which is odd because I specifically remember not only locking the gun case but replacing the glass with steel and bolting it shut before chaining and even welding the doors shut. I'm protective of my boom-sticks. Piss off, fuckers. But guess what? The guns aren't there! The cabinet is COMPLETELY empty. Shells and all. At least they were considerate enough to leave the boxes behind so I know what brand to buy to replace them.
So, yeah, I have to either buy new guns or find the bastard that stole them. Highly unlikely, either one of those. I have yet to see a gun shop. I have yet to see a pet shop (need to replace my broken filter on my tank). I have yet to see anywhere to buy groceries! *pokes ramen stash, which is dwindling at a depressing speed* I shall starve soon, I think...