Could I borrow a few of those otters?
Not this post, not now! Chastity.
My cast remains smelly, but i know have a house to live in for the winter.
sweet bones.
is that a thing people say? cos they should.
like when Samuel L. Jackson says "hold on to your butts" in Jurassic Park One. Or JP1, as Spielburg (sp??) calls it, for short, you know.
Anyhow, I completely lost my train of thought trying figure out how to spell Spielburg, so this post is going to exceed my initial estimations of suck, i think.
My winterhouse has cable, so i think i will watch a lot of shit tv and really try to embrace some sort of reverse enlightment. Or, alternately, just start posting opaque and vague poetry on this livejournal, using the power of internet i will also have at my house.
I haven't decided which.
I'm leaning towards livejournal poetry jam based purely on that fact that i think Caitlin Stickney (hopefully still by the power of library sponsored public internet- reprazent!)is the only person that still reads this journal, perhaps occasionally Sphen as well, and both of them would love laughing at my shitty poetry.
I'm going to see an on-line auction site about procuring some sweets from Great Britain.
Because i have no fucking idea what i'm doing. At all.
My cast remains smelly, but i know have a house to live in for the winter.
sweet bones.
is that a thing people say? cos they should.
like when Samuel L. Jackson says "hold on to your butts" in Jurassic Park One. Or JP1, as Spielburg (sp??) calls it, for short, you know.
Anyhow, I completely lost my train of thought trying figure out how to spell Spielburg, so this post is going to exceed my initial estimations of suck, i think.
My winterhouse has cable, so i think i will watch a lot of shit tv and really try to embrace some sort of reverse enlightment. Or, alternately, just start posting opaque and vague poetry on this livejournal, using the power of internet i will also have at my house.
I haven't decided which.
I'm leaning towards livejournal poetry jam based purely on that fact that i think Caitlin Stickney (hopefully still by the power of library sponsored public internet- reprazent!)is the only person that still reads this journal, perhaps occasionally Sphen as well, and both of them would love laughing at my shitty poetry.
I'm going to see an on-line auction site about procuring some sweets from Great Britain.
Because i have no fucking idea what i'm doing. At all.