I'm making progress with my omelets... this one would be damn good if I hadn't accidentally dumped too much garlic salt in it... and if I hadn't folded it all funky so that it resembles a scrambled tumor. Eh. But the consistency-- ahhhh. I'm so used to my hard-ass half-burnt eggs that it's... alien. I've also discovered that if I prepare raw
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Lime essence in the apartment? LOL! If I'd come in, my skin would probably have immediately erupted into hives, and an asthma attack wouldn't have been far behind. :P
Speaking of apartments, I haven't thought of any ways to torture my freshman roomie. Maybe I could set up a witchy altar in the living room and declare it as part of my "sacred space." What do you think?
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And my flagpole is fine, thank you very much.
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Oh, sorry Stephanie. We didn't mean to clutter up your post like this. I can't take Mokey anywhere.
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Yeah, sorry, Steph. :3
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