the BRUTAL, UGLY truth of my FABULOUS, BEAUTIFUL life.
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19:11 + 11.12.2006 = procrastination.
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fuck.
nu �r det tiden f�r jul.
igen.
fuck.
i'm in fulltiltboogie-christmannukah panick.
i wish my friends and family could be bought off with gifts that cost money and come with receipt... but as it were, it's a make-them-something year.
and i've four incredibly lofty projects ahead of me and slim to nil time to accomplish one let alone all.
but since last minute panick has always been my greatest muse and get-'er-done drug... i shall spend the remainder of this night drinking beaujolais and playing phase10 with sistersister...
who just spilt wedding soup on my bed and said, 'if it makes you feel any better, i think i have some sausage in my purse.'
cos she's like that.
cos we're like that.
and we're awesomely brilliant.
see!
[[however, i did buy the are-we-boyfriends-yet?'s xmas gift. he better not already have it.]]
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comments?? --->[thisaway]--->[[looks to me as though there are...]]---> 0 repercussions thus far
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[prologue] *** [epilogue] ***[plottwist!]
[[erstwhile]] ***** [[forthwith]]
