Transition to 2011, part II + Arnold/Helga
Don't tell me y'all thought I was done?
Well, I thought I was done, too. Guess we're all wrong.
This next post is supposedly about me, but being the incredible annoying motormouth that has absolutely no sense of conversational direction, there is a very large chance that I will deviate. Also, I'm a bit off, because I just had the worst test ever. You have been warned.
Okay. Um, I guess I haven't made much progress with 2010. I didn't really do my best. I didn't work my ass off or whatever. I didn't do a lot of things. Which is why I'm thankful for 2011, in a way. I have another year to write and draw and dance and laugh and smile and be me. It's just this one more chance to be awesome. And I'm excited.
This year started out pretty awesome. Me and my family and relatives went out to this farm in the province and it has just been the most awesome-est-est-est-est-est-est time evah. We watched Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and I don't care if you're a hater, I love this movie. Also, I have this growing obsession with Arnold/Helga (yes, you read that right). Which means fic.
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Title: Camping
Rating: K+
Characters: Arnold, Helga, Phoebe and Gerald
Genre: General
Word Count: 100
Summary: They botched the camping idea.
Notes: Because we all know Helga’s hot and Arnold’s hormone-riddled.
Arnold was kind of miffed with everyone turning down the camping idea so easily. He didn’t loathe the beach, per se, but he preferred being in the Great Outdoors rather than under the sun.
That is, until his blonde girlfriend came out of the dressing room, clad in a simple pink bikini top with matching board shorts displaying her really hot legs. (Phoebe was pretty, too, but hey, Gerald’s got that covered.)
Helga smirked when she saw him ogling, cheeks burning. “Get rid of the tent, Football Head, we botched the camping idea.”
What tent is she-
Oh. That tent.
-
I also have a planner that's in a language that most, if not all, of you won't understand. I'm pretty proud of this planner because it's so fucking funny and small and cute and blue and it has a drawing of a butt on the cover. There's a butt on the cover! A BUTT!
Oh, well. Until next time.
And by next time I'd have changed my set of icons. I hope.
Well, I thought I was done, too. Guess we're all wrong.
This next post is supposedly about me, but being the incredible annoying motormouth that has absolutely no sense of conversational direction, there is a very large chance that I will deviate. Also, I'm a bit off, because I just had the worst test ever. You have been warned.
Okay. Um, I guess I haven't made much progress with 2010. I didn't really do my best. I didn't work my ass off or whatever. I didn't do a lot of things. Which is why I'm thankful for 2011, in a way. I have another year to write and draw and dance and laugh and smile and be me. It's just this one more chance to be awesome. And I'm excited.
This year started out pretty awesome. Me and my family and relatives went out to this farm in the province and it has just been the most awesome-est-est-est-est-est-est time evah. We watched Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and I don't care if you're a hater, I love this movie. Also, I have this growing obsession with Arnold/Helga (yes, you read that right). Which means fic.
-
Title: Camping
Rating: K+
Characters: Arnold, Helga, Phoebe and Gerald
Genre: General
Word Count: 100
Summary: They botched the camping idea.
Notes: Because we all know Helga’s hot and Arnold’s hormone-riddled.
Arnold was kind of miffed with everyone turning down the camping idea so easily. He didn’t loathe the beach, per se, but he preferred being in the Great Outdoors rather than under the sun.
That is, until his blonde girlfriend came out of the dressing room, clad in a simple pink bikini top with matching board shorts displaying her really hot legs. (Phoebe was pretty, too, but hey, Gerald’s got that covered.)
Helga smirked when she saw him ogling, cheeks burning. “Get rid of the tent, Football Head, we botched the camping idea.”
What tent is she-
Oh. That tent.
-
I also have a planner that's in a language that most, if not all, of you won't understand. I'm pretty proud of this planner because it's so fucking funny and small and cute and blue and it has a drawing of a butt on the cover. There's a butt on the cover! A BUTT!
Oh, well. Until next time.
And by next time I'd have changed my set of icons. I hope.