........aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgh.......
imagine with me:
You're in a wondrous land of candy! (yaaaaay)
You've been appointed Mayor of Tootsie Town! (the land of candy is not a democracy)
The peppermint streets are polished and gleaming. (thank god it hasn't rained or there'd be smeary red stripes everywhere)
The rock candy bushes glint in the sun. (their coloring varies depending on the acidity of the soil)
Koolaid burbles quietly in the chocolate fountain mosaicked with skittles. (i know mosaicked is an awkward adjective, shut up)
People visit your town and you gleefully distribute gumdrop-goodness, lollipop-loveliness, and peanut butter-cup flowers to the masses. (I dunno what kinda mayor does this kinda shit, but i didn't know what title to say "giver-outer-of-candies" was. So it's the mayor.)
Some are nice and some are mean, all are hungry, but the candy goes out to anyone. (COMMUNISM!)
The great golden marshmallow sun sinks low on the rolling snickers hills. (I'm gettin' hungry)
You are saddened, for you must begin to turn people away, and leave the magical candy cove. (I know i called it the tootsie town in the first paragraph, it's the same place. work with me here)
You have much candy left, and are disappointed you could not give away more. (it's everywhere. you despair finding room for all of it when the candy-give-away is over)
Even still, it has been a long, sweet day. (ha ha. Pun!)
You yearn to retreat to your gingerbread home filled with frosting and love. (mmmmm...frosting)
The golden marshmallow sun sets. (which really does raise a number of questions about the nature of the land of candy's solar system)
The day is done--but NO! What is this?! BRIGANDS! (Nasty men with Horses. Some one asked me what the hell a brigand was the other day. so...uh...nasty men with horses)
Ruthless men! They've come for candy and will not be denied! (well, they'd leave if you asked them, but they'd pout.)
You want to give the candy away--you cannot keep it forever, but ... the sun... the gingerbread home and the strawberries'n'cream sweetheart who waits for you... (Picking a Kevin-candy was remarkably easy.)
The Brigands have set up camp while you hesitated. (you must be FIRM with brigands)
They sit at the candy piles and plow meaty fists into the depths, handling all the candy, but only choosing dribs and drabs. (brigands have to handle everything. it's not real for them until they do)
Why oh why! There have been less-than-polite people all day. Why do these arrive as the sun sets?! Do they mean to keep you from your home? Ladybird ladybird, fly away home, your house is on fire, your children are burning! (I have no kids. it's just a rhyme. and "ladybird ladybird...your cats are on fire!" makes me snicker. because i've seen too many cartoons.)
No. They loaf at the candy piles, shoveling their prizes into sweaty cheeks. (SWEATY, SWEATY, BEEFY, HIRSUTE CHEEKS)
One elbows another on accident. Neither notice. No. These men are on a mission, and your presence goes unnoticed and unremarked. It is not that they don't care about your after-hours life--they just never considered it.
You are trapped in the candy cove with the face-shovelers for another hour... or longer...
okay. terrible, transparent metaphor over.
Thank goodness Kevin brought me a sammich. I'd be nibbling my own elbows by now.
The sale is actually going well. Everyone just showed up AT closing. I don't think i'd be quite so wet-hen in my lj about it if not for a visit from D. He's creepy, stalkery, annoying, chatty, has some kind of socially crippling mental affliction and says i'm his best friend. Oh, he's had other best friends, but they betrayed him. And the judge said that next time, he shouldn't be so violent.
...
yeeeah.
it's six thirty p.m. they're still going through the books. i wanna sell the books. mustn't make them leave. all hail the sammich.
strawberries'n'cream sweetheart? I'm be-set by brigands. I may be late.
You're in a wondrous land of candy! (yaaaaay)
You've been appointed Mayor of Tootsie Town! (the land of candy is not a democracy)
The peppermint streets are polished and gleaming. (thank god it hasn't rained or there'd be smeary red stripes everywhere)
The rock candy bushes glint in the sun. (their coloring varies depending on the acidity of the soil)
Koolaid burbles quietly in the chocolate fountain mosaicked with skittles. (i know mosaicked is an awkward adjective, shut up)
People visit your town and you gleefully distribute gumdrop-goodness, lollipop-loveliness, and peanut butter-cup flowers to the masses. (I dunno what kinda mayor does this kinda shit, but i didn't know what title to say "giver-outer-of-candies" was. So it's the mayor.)
Some are nice and some are mean, all are hungry, but the candy goes out to anyone. (COMMUNISM!)
The great golden marshmallow sun sinks low on the rolling snickers hills. (I'm gettin' hungry)
You are saddened, for you must begin to turn people away, and leave the magical candy cove. (I know i called it the tootsie town in the first paragraph, it's the same place. work with me here)
You have much candy left, and are disappointed you could not give away more. (it's everywhere. you despair finding room for all of it when the candy-give-away is over)
Even still, it has been a long, sweet day. (ha ha. Pun!)
You yearn to retreat to your gingerbread home filled with frosting and love. (mmmmm...frosting)
The golden marshmallow sun sets. (which really does raise a number of questions about the nature of the land of candy's solar system)
The day is done--but NO! What is this?! BRIGANDS! (Nasty men with Horses. Some one asked me what the hell a brigand was the other day. so...uh...nasty men with horses)
Ruthless men! They've come for candy and will not be denied! (well, they'd leave if you asked them, but they'd pout.)
You want to give the candy away--you cannot keep it forever, but ... the sun... the gingerbread home and the strawberries'n'cream sweetheart who waits for you... (Picking a Kevin-candy was remarkably easy.)
The Brigands have set up camp while you hesitated. (you must be FIRM with brigands)
They sit at the candy piles and plow meaty fists into the depths, handling all the candy, but only choosing dribs and drabs. (brigands have to handle everything. it's not real for them until they do)
Why oh why! There have been less-than-polite people all day. Why do these arrive as the sun sets?! Do they mean to keep you from your home? Ladybird ladybird, fly away home, your house is on fire, your children are burning! (I have no kids. it's just a rhyme. and "ladybird ladybird...your cats are on fire!" makes me snicker. because i've seen too many cartoons.)
No. They loaf at the candy piles, shoveling their prizes into sweaty cheeks. (SWEATY, SWEATY, BEEFY, HIRSUTE CHEEKS)
One elbows another on accident. Neither notice. No. These men are on a mission, and your presence goes unnoticed and unremarked. It is not that they don't care about your after-hours life--they just never considered it.
You are trapped in the candy cove with the face-shovelers for another hour... or longer...
okay. terrible, transparent metaphor over.
Thank goodness Kevin brought me a sammich. I'd be nibbling my own elbows by now.
The sale is actually going well. Everyone just showed up AT closing. I don't think i'd be quite so wet-hen in my lj about it if not for a visit from D. He's creepy, stalkery, annoying, chatty, has some kind of socially crippling mental affliction and says i'm his best friend. Oh, he's had other best friends, but they betrayed him. And the judge said that next time, he shouldn't be so violent.
...
yeeeah.
it's six thirty p.m. they're still going through the books. i wanna sell the books. mustn't make them leave. all hail the sammich.
strawberries'n'cream sweetheart? I'm be-set by brigands. I may be late.