and i'm full of chicken leg, as are the boys
mine were cooked though. and my cuticles are pretty ragged cause i'm a nervous picker.
EYE OF THE SPARROWWWWWWWW
i think i'm now friends with the lady at the store from whence i buyest mine dog's food. 'where've you been? i haven't seen you in a while! don't you look pretty today! come by and see me sometime' haha
and no it wasn't sexshul :p
and i had broccoli with my chicken. be proud. i didn't want it. but i cooked it to mush and ate it and it was okay. THIS GIRL SLIPPED ON MY ARROWWWWWWWW!
while browsing youtube i began randomly humming Cruella De Vil to myself, so i thought to myself 'well then! let's play it!'
and i find this at the top of the search results
what is this? someone go find this child and backhand her. and then fronthand her.
no. just no.
so my disney bent was kicked off with this nutball. she has excellent taste in villains.
i feel somewhat antisocial lately, despite being on the receiving end of chit chat with the store lady and showing off my excellent acting chops by having perky conversation with my uncle and his kids. i'm good at faking that. i should have some emmies and oscars
and i'm tired the last 2 days. i can feel my mental issues hiccuping and twitching. now logistitheorectihyperboberly i know it's just a manifestation of exhaustion. i know, you know. when i sleep on time lots i'm even keeled, but the schedule got bumped around
and i kinda wanna go curl up somewhere and be alone with my existential sadness
I don't want to touch sandpaper.
Ursula! She is the bomb. Only go curl up somewhere and be alone if it's on a proper sleep schedule! [[eyeballin' you sternly with crossed arms]]
[QUOTE=justyouraveragecavemen;974991]I don't want to touch sandpaper.[/QUOTE]
it's party time chumps!
[QUOTE=namelesswonder;975016]Ursula! She is the bomb. Only go curl up somewhere and be alone if it's on a proper sleep schedule! [[eyeballin' you sternly with crossed arms]][/QUOTE]
*sigggghhhhhh* okaaaaaaaaay *scuffs foot*
i'm so sleepy. i'm soooooo sleepy. iiiiiii'm so sleepy. i'm so sleeeeeeeeeepy.
i don't even want to watch hell on wheels, i'm that tired. and i love me some hell on wheels. love. loooooooo-ove it.
but the consistent vituhmins are showing good things, consistent zoloft is good. consistent 80/20, 90/10 is being good to me. my banged up knee feels better and my lower back isn't crunchy today and my upper back is less sore. however, that could be weather related. but still.
but the wonky sleep that makes my head gods stir is getting me kind of twitchy about going to buy something. i don't need it, i'll rarely use it, but brain says 'come on. let's go. go! now, go! GET UP AND GO! and while you're at it let's get some chinese'
who put my pictures up on the internets? frownyface.jpg
so i may or may not have taken a nap. and my guy may or may not have kept hitting redial until i answered. and i may or may not have growled at him and threatened his personal safety
but i'm up and i feel content so maybe the mind game gods went back to sleep and i will have 10000 more years of peace
and tomorrow the boys will get more flea pills... and BATHS! mwahahahahaaa. they were fairly warned. i can't help they don't understand english.
and after an ice cream comfort food round last night, i woke up early feeling soreish. real live foods tonight = less soreish, which = goodness
i'm full of meat. stuffed full, as it were. probably, but not really, in the pornographic sense
cause, you know, my stepson's college age hot friend didn't come by to visit and found me frustrated and angry at my husband and looking for revenge
the above is just a mini lesson on boobs for men
annnnnd THIS ONE CAUSE IT MADE ME HAPPY. so many sexy vampires/kitties/pirates/zombies...
yes... sexy zombies.
yay for uniqueness
I <3 Jenna Marbles forever and ever and ever.
Also, the sports bra is the awesomest thing ever until I bend over to do rows and then realize that in that pose, the boobs are still smushed but the cleavage is decidedly still there and I'm bent over in front of a mirror in front of 8 gazillion curl-pumping gym monkeys who now all have a fine view of my boobage, which from that angle sort of looks like breasts in an 18th-century-style costume drama (you know, where the actresses' breasts are all flat from the side but all squished up in the front thanks to the magic of corsetry). Then I am very glad that I have my very large sweetie as a workout partner.
Being the only girl in the free weight area can definitely suck some days.
i mean, obviously my favorite part is when she slammed him into the table. and i have zero trouble believing she didn't need help doing it.
she did p90x. and she has the thighs of a killer.
apparently i'm still antisocial. poor bay kept trying to make me talk and i just.. had.. nothing.. to.. say. so we just chilled on the phone with minimal talking.
i'm in a weird introspective place. i actually googled how to get motivated, and nothing clicked. inspiration did not strike. i'm in stasis mode, and i have been. it's like scar tissue, only the wound was emotional trauma. i can feel happiness and sadness and anger, but they're surface. deeper down is nothing.