Strokes of Genius, Thursday
Today at the front counter, it was Katchoo with a large pad of art paper and the angriest watercolor painting-in-progress you ever saw.
Stupid male body. She'd never been more grossed out in her life. Girl had issues, okay?
She'd scrounged up the power cord for her crappy ancient CD clock radio, so having lugged it in with her, she was blasting the same Griffin Silver CD she'd brought in yesterday. Part of her (Hahaha, part. Snort. Ew.) was a little bitter that she could actually go completely shirtless in public just to see what it was like, now, and that stupid tattoo pretty much made it impossible. And her jeans didn't fit right, and her shirt was a little too tight for her liking now, and . . .
. . . Katchoo liked to feel sorry for herself. A lot.
Thus music, and angry angry ANGRY watercolors, and an open store with a pissy looking guy manning the till. Literally manning, today.
Dammit.
[OOC: Open! Mwahaha.]
Stupid male body. She'd never been more grossed out in her life. Girl had issues, okay?
She'd scrounged up the power cord for her crappy ancient CD clock radio, so having lugged it in with her, she was blasting the same Griffin Silver CD she'd brought in yesterday. Part of her (Hahaha, part. Snort. Ew.) was a little bitter that she could actually go completely shirtless in public just to see what it was like, now, and that stupid tattoo pretty much made it impossible. And her jeans didn't fit right, and her shirt was a little too tight for her liking now, and . . .
. . . Katchoo liked to feel sorry for herself. A lot.
Thus music, and angry angry ANGRY watercolors, and an open store with a pissy looking guy manning the till. Literally manning, today.
Dammit.
[OOC: Open! Mwahaha.]