Let's not forget Bob!
Oh no! Oh no :( I'm about a quarter of the way through a book, and I want it to be the last book I read in '07 (because I don't want the last book I read to have been a shitty Laurell k. Hamilton, ick) and I have three hours to read it and I'm like OK! I will sit and read this book! First, I will check my emails! And then I will check live journal! And now I will look at this Bob Bryer picspam! And now I will download MCR related shenanigans! Oh! And now I should update about how instead of reading I'm wasting time online! OH BECK. YOU SCAMP.
*does the 'two days off work' dance* Today I went to work on about 5 hours sleep, with bonus added period pain! I was a wreck. And my boss was sick, so she went home halfway through the day, leaving me in charge of a casual from another store when all I wanted to do was curl up on some boxes out the back and nap. SIGH. But that's ok! Now it's NYE and I'm not leaving the house! I approve of this, even though no one else I've spoken to does. They don't understand the appeal of spending this night of nights stretched out on the couch watching the fireworks on TV and getting quietly sozzled in your nightie.
I feel like GWay would approve, however. The rest of the boys drag him out every year, and all HE wants is to sit in his comfiest armchair and read comics, while maybe nursing a cranberry juice or perhapse a warmed non-alcoholic apple cider. And Frank is like "NO YOU'RE BORING COME OUT AND PARTAY DOWN WITH US" and Gerard is like, but I'm sleepy! Why don't we just chill here? I'll make us popcorn and we can totally watch Hellboy. And one year Frank relents! And they light sparklers at midnight and give each other big joke smooches. And Frank bitches and moans, but secretly it's the best New Year's ever. And Gerard feels all warm inside. Inside his skeleton jammies.
DOES. WANT.
ANYWAY. I hope you're all out there doing the thing you want to do most of all. Whether you're partying or napping, hanging out with a few friends, or alone online reading porn. Whether you're in a crowd of a thousand people or just snuggling with your cat. Have fun, be safe, be happy and kick arse, my friends. Now and for all of next year.
Rock out, 2007! Bring on '08!
--Cheers, Beck.
(2 hours and 45 minutes! I will finish this fucking book!)
OH! And happy fucking birthday, Bob Bryer! You are a king amongst men, you sexy bitch. I salute you.
*does the 'two days off work' dance* Today I went to work on about 5 hours sleep, with bonus added period pain! I was a wreck. And my boss was sick, so she went home halfway through the day, leaving me in charge of a casual from another store when all I wanted to do was curl up on some boxes out the back and nap. SIGH. But that's ok! Now it's NYE and I'm not leaving the house! I approve of this, even though no one else I've spoken to does. They don't understand the appeal of spending this night of nights stretched out on the couch watching the fireworks on TV and getting quietly sozzled in your nightie.
I feel like GWay would approve, however. The rest of the boys drag him out every year, and all HE wants is to sit in his comfiest armchair and read comics, while maybe nursing a cranberry juice or perhapse a warmed non-alcoholic apple cider. And Frank is like "NO YOU'RE BORING COME OUT AND PARTAY DOWN WITH US" and Gerard is like, but I'm sleepy! Why don't we just chill here? I'll make us popcorn and we can totally watch Hellboy. And one year Frank relents! And they light sparklers at midnight and give each other big joke smooches. And Frank bitches and moans, but secretly it's the best New Year's ever. And Gerard feels all warm inside. Inside his skeleton jammies.
DOES. WANT.
ANYWAY. I hope you're all out there doing the thing you want to do most of all. Whether you're partying or napping, hanging out with a few friends, or alone online reading porn. Whether you're in a crowd of a thousand people or just snuggling with your cat. Have fun, be safe, be happy and kick arse, my friends. Now and for all of next year.
Rock out, 2007! Bring on '08!
--Cheers, Beck.
(2 hours and 45 minutes! I will finish this fucking book!)
OH! And happy fucking birthday, Bob Bryer! You are a king amongst men, you sexy bitch. I salute you.