.......bellyache. >.<
PLEASE TO NOT BE GETTING SICK DURING BLOGATHON.
Fic's going strong, don't worry, just needed a half-hour of downtime, cat-petting, and hiding in the bathroom.
MULLET.
I have no idea what they're talking about, but it involves mullets. And something about a traumatizing crotch shot of a guy walking up a stairway on his hands.
MULLET.
Fic really going strong, actually. Starting to get to the point, both emotionally and historically, where I can do the stuff I actually intended to. And I think, so far (*knocks wood*), that I was right...this is exactly the sort of thing to do for Blogathon--open-ended, rambly, fairly wide emotional range, yet also with an arc to keep me going.
REPEAT SPONSOR PLEA AD INFINITUM AD NAUSEUM. MULLLLLEEEEEEEEET.
*off to untangle the huge mess that is her hair and keep up with Gellert on a philosophical bent*
...BLOODY FREAKING HELL. I may have dreads the next time you see me. Next half-hour may be spent rehabilitating my hair. Aiiiiii.
[entry in the
Grindeldore for Goats Blogathon Venture; sponsor me
here!]