(no subject)
[OH EM GEE, IT'S CRAYON WORLD!]
[Poland approves. This means MUCH easier access to fabulous clothes, cute shoes, and good boozahol than most of the other worlds afford. Hell yeah!]
[He has relocated his Barbie Dream-House perfectly sensible fortress that just HAPPENS to have a rooftop pool and a walk-in closet in his room bigger than some people's flats, and has been busily redecorating it to serve as the headquarters for the new and shiny Baltic-Polish Union of Free States! This involves it being decorated with Latvian and Lithuanian flags as well as his own, and a hand-drawn coat of arms on the front door that incorporates his eagle, Liet's knight, and Latvia's lion and griffin. He thinks it's pretty fab, personally.]
[At the moment, he's teetering precariously at the top of a ladder, drawing a biiiiiiiiiig "Happy Probably-Late Birthday, Liet!" banner on the front of the building. And singing, loudly, because quietly just isn't really something he does.]
Sto lat, sto lat,
Niech żyje, żyje nam!
[...Let's ignore that wishing an immortal "a hundred years" of happy, healthy life doesn't quite work. Maybe he should change the song for when he's talking about other nations...]
[Poland approves. This means MUCH easier access to fabulous clothes, cute shoes, and good boozahol than most of the other worlds afford. Hell yeah!]
[He has relocated his Barbie Dream-House perfectly sensible fortress that just HAPPENS to have a rooftop pool and a walk-in closet in his room bigger than some people's flats, and has been busily redecorating it to serve as the headquarters for the new and shiny Baltic-Polish Union of Free States! This involves it being decorated with Latvian and Lithuanian flags as well as his own, and a hand-drawn coat of arms on the front door that incorporates his eagle, Liet's knight, and Latvia's lion and griffin. He thinks it's pretty fab, personally.]
[At the moment, he's teetering precariously at the top of a ladder, drawing a biiiiiiiiiig "Happy Probably-Late Birthday, Liet!" banner on the front of the building. And singing, loudly, because quietly just isn't really something he does.]
Sto lat, sto lat,
Niech żyje, żyje nam!
[...Let's ignore that wishing an immortal "a hundred years" of happy, healthy life doesn't quite work. Maybe he should change the song for when he's talking about other nations...]