My entire left arm hurts from my wrist to the shoulder. It's just... sore. It doesn't feel like I've pinched a nerve, but it definitely feels... something.
Anyway.
So, I think I have a job. At Barnes and Noble. My hatred of my life is complete. Perhaps one day I will tell of my frustrating hilarious adventures today, but for now I'm going to skip
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Also HELLO SAMANTHA CARTER. I don't know what the fuck kind of uniform that is but I APPROVE HEARTILY AND PANTSILY. Unf.
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This is like, the sexiest team ever. I can't even deal with it. DO ME SAM CARTER. RODNEY AND TEYLA CAN COME TOO. I'D INVITE JOHN TO WATCH, BUT I THINK THE VAGINAS WOULD TERRIFY HIM. RONON CAN WATCH, THOUGH. HE'S MAN ENOUGH.
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plus, from what I can tell (and correct me if I'm wrong), you don't really... have to. it's not a issue of shitty retail job vs. not being able to pay the rent, which, for a lot of people who are just starting to make it on their own out of college, it is.
whatever, I know working retail is never ideal. I like my job a lot, but there are a lot of things I'd rather be doing with my life and my time. at the same time, though... there are a lot of things I'd rather not be doing, so I don't complain.
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Sorry, I don't pay that much attention to JFlan. If it as David who had his hand on his gun... um, I probably wouldn't be concious to post these. I would be dead somewhere and it would be tragic because I would not get to see things like "Miller's Crossing" and "Harmony" and "Trio" (Because I may be kind of rabid about John/Rodney, but I understand the inherent hotness of Carter/McKay/Keller when I see it.)
Anyway, what was I saying? I got distracted by the utter hotness of that for a moment. And also Kate. omg.
Anyway. Anyway. I don't care that much about JFlan's gun.
(Also, are you still up? Can I call you and, like, break down like a small child?)
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