i suck with titles today, make up your own :D
there's a blank cd stuck in my laptop. >.< it's not showing up on the desktop so i have to restart in order to get it out. oy. also, i think i'm about to run out of blank dvd's. huh. also also, i keep trying to spell "blank" with a c in it somewhere. did i oy already? i think i did.
...does the utter lack of caps and scattershot punctuation bother anyone? this is a serious question.
someone who shall remain nameless but looks a lot like my roommate does her laundry and then leaves it in the dryer. >.< which means i'm always taking her dry clothes out of the dryer so i can put my wet ones in. and she wonders why she can never find her clothes.... also i think i need new cotton pj's, as mine are old and kind of embarrassing. they have dancing cows on them and i won't tell you how old "old" is because, well, embarrassing. it's possible i have too much else to do this weekend to shop for them, tho. where do you get cute inexpensive cotton pajamas? sort of mid-weight pj's, between flannel and whatever the hell my summer pj bottoms from vicki's secret are made of. they're, like, fabric-fabric, like button-down-shirt fabric. (i'm sure it has a name but the hell if i know what.) the ones i need to replace are more t-shirt fabric.
i've been directed to bring snapple lemonade to belfast. i didn't even know snapple MADE lemonade. and so far i haven't found it. altho i haven't looked tons of places....
jadelennox is doing a poll on fanfic, literature, and the quality thereof. go share your opinion if you have one on the subject. because i know some of you partake of the fanfic. :D
speaking of, apetslife is doing a spn get them out of the car challenge, and i had an idea and then i had another idea and then i looked at myself and said "self, you might have to actually plot something out like a normal person, in which case you are screwed and not in the happy fun sweaty way." and then i wrote a paragraph, and then i wrote another one, and then i wrote TWO, and none of them went with the same story. and actually only one of them might qualify. but, see, i really like this one. it's two sentences, but one of them is a loooong sentence. wanna read it? :D
Hands that have cleaned guns and sharpened knives and counted bullets, hands that have comforted small children and made grown women scream, hands that have changed oil and changed tires and pumped gas and washed blood off the back seat, hands that have held pens and pencils and old books and newspapers and Dad's journal, that have shot pool and forged credit cards and faked IDs, picked locks and tripped alarms and broken bones and cracked skulls, hands that have lit flares and cigarette lighters, that have shaken canisters of salt, that have stroked skin and tied shoelaces and combed hair and made lunches, that have taken notes and sketched pictures and smacked people upside the head, that have held countless cups of coffee and stolen countless french fries, hands that have iced bruises and splinted bones and bandaged cuts and administered aspirin and Jack Daniels to kill the pain, that have dug graves and pulled triggers, that have taken photos and set fires and built useful things out of discards - the hands that have held Sam Winchester up since he was six months old now pull him down, so close he can smell the blood on his brother's breath, pull him down and hold him so he can hear Dean rasp "Don't. Say that." Denial and anger thick in his voice, and when Sam shakes his head he can feel his bangs brushing against his brother's forehead.
ok, so i have a hand thing. what's your point?
and now i go to get my clothes out of the washing machine. yay.
...does the utter lack of caps and scattershot punctuation bother anyone? this is a serious question.
someone who shall remain nameless but looks a lot like my roommate does her laundry and then leaves it in the dryer. >.< which means i'm always taking her dry clothes out of the dryer so i can put my wet ones in. and she wonders why she can never find her clothes.... also i think i need new cotton pj's, as mine are old and kind of embarrassing. they have dancing cows on them and i won't tell you how old "old" is because, well, embarrassing. it's possible i have too much else to do this weekend to shop for them, tho. where do you get cute inexpensive cotton pajamas? sort of mid-weight pj's, between flannel and whatever the hell my summer pj bottoms from vicki's secret are made of. they're, like, fabric-fabric, like button-down-shirt fabric. (i'm sure it has a name but the hell if i know what.) the ones i need to replace are more t-shirt fabric.
i've been directed to bring snapple lemonade to belfast. i didn't even know snapple MADE lemonade. and so far i haven't found it. altho i haven't looked tons of places....
jadelennox is doing a poll on fanfic, literature, and the quality thereof. go share your opinion if you have one on the subject. because i know some of you partake of the fanfic. :D
speaking of, apetslife is doing a spn get them out of the car challenge, and i had an idea and then i had another idea and then i looked at myself and said "self, you might have to actually plot something out like a normal person, in which case you are screwed and not in the happy fun sweaty way." and then i wrote a paragraph, and then i wrote another one, and then i wrote TWO, and none of them went with the same story. and actually only one of them might qualify. but, see, i really like this one. it's two sentences, but one of them is a loooong sentence. wanna read it? :D
Hands that have cleaned guns and sharpened knives and counted bullets, hands that have comforted small children and made grown women scream, hands that have changed oil and changed tires and pumped gas and washed blood off the back seat, hands that have held pens and pencils and old books and newspapers and Dad's journal, that have shot pool and forged credit cards and faked IDs, picked locks and tripped alarms and broken bones and cracked skulls, hands that have lit flares and cigarette lighters, that have shaken canisters of salt, that have stroked skin and tied shoelaces and combed hair and made lunches, that have taken notes and sketched pictures and smacked people upside the head, that have held countless cups of coffee and stolen countless french fries, hands that have iced bruises and splinted bones and bandaged cuts and administered aspirin and Jack Daniels to kill the pain, that have dug graves and pulled triggers, that have taken photos and set fires and built useful things out of discards - the hands that have held Sam Winchester up since he was six months old now pull him down, so close he can smell the blood on his brother's breath, pull him down and hold him so he can hear Dean rasp "Don't. Say that." Denial and anger thick in his voice, and when Sam shakes his head he can feel his bangs brushing against his brother's forehead.
ok, so i have a hand thing. what's your point?
and now i go to get my clothes out of the washing machine. yay.