oh santa i've been killing just for fun
almost christmas!
typing this is painful. i cut my index finger with a pair of scissors a child would use whilst opening a box of goodies from a land afar. each time i use that finger to type a letter, which is quite often, as i use it to type y,u,h,n,m and the lesser used j, pressure is put on my finger tip, right at the epicenter of the injury. my first christmas related injury to date. injuries which can be expected in the week or so of holidays to come include: burnt tongue from too-hot cocoa, f(l)at ass from too much movie watching, and exploding bellypants from way too much poppycock, nanaimo bars, cookies/cakes/whathaveyou. i also expect a severe depression to ensue post holiday season as i come down off of an extensive sugar high, and finally emerge from the daze to realize they stopped making my so called life thirteen years ago, and that jordan catalano is really old now, and wearing eyeliner. and p.s.? i would way rather make out with brian krakow. minus the high pants.
did this have a point?
oh, the cut. from a box. a box from lands afar, which i had to pick up at the bus depot. the bus depot, where i saw the cutest boy ever! that is the point. i saw the cutest boy ever at the bus depot. for the fifteen minutes i stood in line to get my package, i stared at the back of his head and wondered if he cleaned behind his ears, because it was spotless back there.
now it's 8:11 pm, which is sufficiently late enough for me to have a bubble bath, and then crawl into bed, watch the rest of 'love actually' and wish that i could have colin firth as a husband.
*don't shoot me santa - the killers
typing this is painful. i cut my index finger with a pair of scissors a child would use whilst opening a box of goodies from a land afar. each time i use that finger to type a letter, which is quite often, as i use it to type y,u,h,n,m and the lesser used j, pressure is put on my finger tip, right at the epicenter of the injury. my first christmas related injury to date. injuries which can be expected in the week or so of holidays to come include: burnt tongue from too-hot cocoa, f(l)at ass from too much movie watching, and exploding bellypants from way too much poppycock, nanaimo bars, cookies/cakes/whathaveyou. i also expect a severe depression to ensue post holiday season as i come down off of an extensive sugar high, and finally emerge from the daze to realize they stopped making my so called life thirteen years ago, and that jordan catalano is really old now, and wearing eyeliner. and p.s.? i would way rather make out with brian krakow. minus the high pants.
did this have a point?
oh, the cut. from a box. a box from lands afar, which i had to pick up at the bus depot. the bus depot, where i saw the cutest boy ever! that is the point. i saw the cutest boy ever at the bus depot. for the fifteen minutes i stood in line to get my package, i stared at the back of his head and wondered if he cleaned behind his ears, because it was spotless back there.
now it's 8:11 pm, which is sufficiently late enough for me to have a bubble bath, and then crawl into bed, watch the rest of 'love actually' and wish that i could have colin firth as a husband.
*don't shoot me santa - the killers
posted by justanothergirl at
21.12.07
1 Comments:
You forgot that you'll also have a sore buttcrack from all the wedgies I'm going to give you when I get there.
Also, I think I'd rather make out with the young Jordan Catalano. I'd rather marry foreberandeber Brian, though.
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Anonymous, at 10:13 AM
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