bastard(s).

so,
blah,
motherfuckers.
a mysterious puddle of liquid appeared on our kitchen floor last night
just in time to extend its warmest greetings.
i guess my face needed to hug the floor or some lame shit.
Face to floor: "oh, it is so good to see you, my jolly ol' lad!"
Floor to face: "a delight, it surely is!"
Face: "Crickey, mate! if you wanted to see me this bad, why didn't you just ring me up?"
Floor: "its cheaper. do you know how MUCH long distance is, these days?!"
Face: "you're still quite the dirty, dirty bastard. when's the last time you cleaned yourself up?"
Floor: "see, this is why we broke up. i just can't handle your rhetoric anymore. and besides, i'm in recovery, damnit."
my knee was messed up.
its still stiff,
like my dick (ha!),
but hey.
school starts soon.
8 am classes.
achk.
*sigh*
2nd chances can be wonderful.
they can be wasteful, also.
we'll see which choice Ms. No Personality shall choose.
i do not honestly know why i said i'd "man the book,"
seriously.
damn.
a winter get-up at that, too.
gah.
another dress.
its a conspiracy,
i tell you.
a conspiracy to get me girlie-fied again.
gah.
bastards.