Jensen said CROATIAN. I kid you not! At 2.18. AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!
8 years ago
Sunday, 30 March 2008
Saturday, 29 March 2008
Seriously
Damn that J2.
So Jensen now sings? He fucking SINGS??
I can't stop listening to that bloody song over and over and over and over again. Gonna borrow a line from it: makes me mellow right down to my soul.
It's so like me.
Addicted in what? 4 days?
Gotta be a record, even for me.
It's just that... thinking of those lips making love to a mic...
K, back to my reading.
So Jensen now sings? He fucking SINGS??
I can't stop listening to that bloody song over and over and over and over again. Gonna borrow a line from it: makes me mellow right down to my soul.
It's so like me.
Addicted in what? 4 days?
Gotta be a record, even for me.
It's just that... thinking of those lips making love to a mic...
K, back to my reading.
Thursday, 27 March 2008
Wood
Ha. I wish!
No, not that kinda wood. But glad to see not only my mind is in the gutter.
I was helping Dad bring wood for the fire in. So I was struggling with two particularly live pieces and one decided to jump and smack me on my nose. Blue noses are the new black anyway. And then I managed to step on two rusty nails that were coming out of another piece of wood. They went straight through my sneaker and into my foot. It's OK, though. I hear dying of sepsis is a nice way to go.
So as we were going from the street to our back yard back and forth an old man on a bike stops on the road and goes "Working hard, eh?" I pretend not to hear him but he repeats it. SO I say "Yeah, a little." thinking he'd move on but no, he just stands there. So I grab the wood and head inside. And my sis and Dad are hiding behind the wall until the guy leaves! Yep, we're friendly like that. *shrugs*
No, not that kinda wood. But glad to see not only my mind is in the gutter.
I was helping Dad bring wood for the fire in. So I was struggling with two particularly live pieces and one decided to jump and smack me on my nose. Blue noses are the new black anyway. And then I managed to step on two rusty nails that were coming out of another piece of wood. They went straight through my sneaker and into my foot. It's OK, though. I hear dying of sepsis is a nice way to go.
So as we were going from the street to our back yard back and forth an old man on a bike stops on the road and goes "Working hard, eh?" I pretend not to hear him but he repeats it. SO I say "Yeah, a little." thinking he'd move on but no, he just stands there. So I grab the wood and head inside. And my sis and Dad are hiding behind the wall until the guy leaves! Yep, we're friendly like that. *shrugs*
Wednesday, 26 March 2008
I Wish I Could
The blogger world has gone quiet. This one I know, anyway. Are we all out of things to write about? Or are we too busy with actually living to manage the time to write about it? I can only speak for myself and it's more the first one than the latter in my case.
That, and I've been reading. And I'm jealous. I'm jealous of people capable of capturing the atmosphere, the air, the tension, emotions, unspoken words and fears and feelings in a way I could never capture them myself. How can I write about my day when it sounds lifeless and dry? I wish I had it in me, the ways of breathing life into words, making them make you laugh, tremble, sweat, cry. And I don't. What am I doing? This is worthless. Let me just be an observer, a reader, the one that consumes, not creates. As if anything else was possible.
For when you have the time to see what I mean: Have you seen him whom my soul loves
I can't do that. But God, how I wish I could!
(Never mind that I'm going to Hell for reading it. lol)
That, and I've been reading. And I'm jealous. I'm jealous of people capable of capturing the atmosphere, the air, the tension, emotions, unspoken words and fears and feelings in a way I could never capture them myself. How can I write about my day when it sounds lifeless and dry? I wish I had it in me, the ways of breathing life into words, making them make you laugh, tremble, sweat, cry. And I don't. What am I doing? This is worthless. Let me just be an observer, a reader, the one that consumes, not creates. As if anything else was possible.
For when you have the time to see what I mean: Have you seen him whom my soul loves
I can't do that. But God, how I wish I could!
(Never mind that I'm going to Hell for reading it. lol)
Sunday, 23 March 2008
It's OK...
...to read slash. Noooothing wrong with that.
Maybe Easter Sunday isn't the best timing but whatcha gonna do, 'twas such a boring day.
My rec: All I wanna do is make a mess out of you
At first I had some issues with the whole incest thing, you know, being such a nice girl an' all, but after reminding myself a few times that "They're not real, they're not real!", 'twas all good. Mmm, make that very good.
And I assure you that YES, I am at least 18 years old. *grin*
Maybe Easter Sunday isn't the best timing but whatcha gonna do, 'twas such a boring day.
My rec: All I wanna do is make a mess out of you
At first I had some issues with the whole incest thing, you know, being such a nice girl an' all, but after reminding myself a few times that "They're not real, they're not real!", 'twas all good. Mmm, make that very good.
And I assure you that YES, I am at least 18 years old. *grin*