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10 agosto that's itHi, me again, and if you can actually read this you have, by concensus of everyone, friggin' amazing eyesight. I have spent the last hour trying to figure out how to make my site readable, and now i'm just ticked.
Once again the people at msn- or is it windows now?- have changed the site format, and made every single iota of text so bloody tiny and ant would have difficulty seeing it. I DEMAND RETRIBUTION!!!! Either somebody please help me out- i'd go to the help page but it's just as friggin' tiny and i cant read it- or tell me an email adress to send my abusive thoughts to. I'd go on strike but that'd do shit all.
So yeah, please, i beg of you, someone help me make my site readable again? i have no reward to offer, but i would be eternally grateful.
Tata. 23 luglio Why mists never write best-selling novels...Howdy folks.
Happy to say i'm in an oddly happy state of mind, though should you ask me why i'll probably cause you some strange form of pain, because i have no idea, and it's kinda starting to freak me out...
As to life, i'm still not driving, as noted in the last blog entry, chestnut season is over :( and...that's about it as far as interesting things go. I've managed to get myself singing the worlds most optimistic and possibly least well liked song for a concert- thats right, simmy gets to sing "tomorrow". Laugh all you like, you're the ones in the cells! mwa ha ha!!! Also my obsession with catgirls has spawned into full flown nearly lifesise fanart. Then girls in tap shoes are gonna kill it. Dont you just love dance studios? I think the best bit is that i've never watched an anime series religiuosly ever in my life, so my catgirl thing is solely in "still". Think i'll keep it that way...
Anyway, that's about it i think...yeah, close enough. hope you enjoyed this vague and pointless update. Now bugger off! 05 luglio driving- me insaneok, so i decided that i should use this month-long break to actually learn to drive, one of many essential life skills i should have learned two years ago if not even earlier. funny thing is all the people i look at who call me stupid for not having done so earlier seem to have their own deficiencies- never got their p's, just suck, despite having miraculously passed, dont have a car to use anyway, being able to get rid of their p's and not doing so.
ok ok, actually most of the people i just hinted out havent actually called me stupid, but one in particular called me silly, despite knowing how much that word pisses me off.
And then theres the sudden realisation that all of my driving role-models are flawed. theres stu, who i would never actually deem as a model anything, come to think of it, who backed into an electric fence trying to get our car out of the mud- we got into the mud trying to avoid said fence- needless to say when he opened mums door i ran for the proverbial hills. NO WAY your getting me into a car driven by that man.
Then there's nana, the person i drive with most, who asks me the directions to her own friggin' house, let alone every other little trip she emotionally blackmails me into taking with her. the smallest layer of fog on her windscreen freaks her out so much she actually pulls over ad asks me to wipe it off. when i inform her i can see fine she then keeps driving and tries to wipe it off whilst doing so, swerving off the road in her lapse of concentration. she also doesnt know haw to drive under 60 km per hour. even in roadworks. cringeworthy. Oh, oh, and she tries to open the car with her housekey.
The most sane of my possible driving teachers is my darling mother, but sadly when angry or when she was drinking earlier in the evening she no longer cares about road rules. it's difficult to feel safe when your going 120 in a 50 zone, or when your purposely going straight over roundabouts.
Ah, sorry inmates, that was definately a rant uneeded, so here's the positive:
If i get my licence this month i'll be on my p's in time for uni! If i get my licence i'll be the one driving on nanas little trips, and she can forget the fucking fog! if i get my licence i can drive mum home of an evening and stick to the law! if i get my licence i can steal nanas car and get the hell out if i need to! oh wait, no, cant do that for another six months. bugger.
Comment on your own driving woes, inmates divine, i crave your anecdotes.
18 giugno what the frig?why is all the text in my space now so exceptionally small? And why do i suddenly have a crappy world map?
Really, given this is meant to be a customer- controled page, the people here at msn myspace perhaps should have concidered ASKING OR AT LEAST INFORMING THEIR CUSTOMERS before fucking around with their preferences. I like small type, but not this friggin' small, and i didnt even want the list of newly updated spaces, let alone a shitty world map.
Customer service really doesnt exist anymore. bring back the days of tradesmen and apprentices- you want clothes? go to a tailor. a man or woman who was well trained, will fit them to YOU, and who probably isnt asian and practically starving for lack of reasonable wages. This last option may change, of course, if you happen to live in an asian country.
So now i'll have to go back to all my old entries, origionally composed in a decent font sise, and go about the rather ambiguous enterprise of editing them all back to the way they origionally were.
Did i actually have something to say before i noticed this?
Probably not. the life of a correspondance, or "external" student doesnt really offer much by way of interesting life moments. I have a new phone, but not being a tech-head i'm not about to go on about it.
I spent my morning cutting interesting poses out of my grandmother's old magasines because i'm sick of trying to sketch in the bend of an elbow from memory or someone sitting nearby. What i SHOULD have been doing was studying written french.
screw that sideways.
buh-bye all. 25 maggio retial therapy my arseHave you ever noticed how you can never find a reasonably priced frog item in may? I can tell you why. Its because Zoe has her birthday in may, and i always get her a frog item-like- thingy. It is because "retail therapy" doesnt like me.
I cant walk into a clothes store (especially supre) without finding something i'd really love to get, that happens to be designed for people without my...ahem... comsiderable chest size. What always annoys me about mentioned store is that there is always a serving chick who is at least equal with myself, who is wearing the in- stock clothes with the usual flair and ease required of serving chicks. Do they order them in especially for her? Do they hire a tailor? Whatever they do, one day i'll find out and kill them for it. I do not take false hope lightly.
For anyone who's interested, on- campus days still suck, but this time i had freindly people to write lymerics to under the drone. Also, i stayed with one of the ex-lads, and not my uncle. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, much better!
And even if your not interested, TOEJAM AND EARL ROCK!!! if any of you peoples out there have access to mega drive/ genesis games, and are able to play them, get the toejam and earl games. I have cheered up many an hour remaniscing as i listen to the funky background music and watch a little red dude with stalk eyes, three legs and a pimp chain wander around saying things like "rightious!"
That will be all. 26 aprile EXPLODING CHESTNUTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!The easter break is not yet over, inmates, but I think I may well have had enough experiences for...about three weeks, in a few days.
Let me ask you something- do any of you wonderous readers know how to cook a chestnut?
I didn't.
But i had always wanted to try one of these...beautious...delicasies, and thus decided to buy a bag of six to cook- two for each live- in family member, under the impression, of course, that my dear mama DID know how to cook them.
Yes.
Interestingly, the night in question, I happened to have coumpany. Very interesting coumpany. Coumpany whom, on previous occasions had done such things as send me anonymous bunches of daisie/ chrisanthymum thingys.
I came to discover that mum's knowlege on the topic of chestnut cooking was in fact quite limited. We decided to put them on a tray in the oven, with the background noise of my nana warning us that if the things exploded in her oven, we were cleaning it up.
Not quite, nan.
It came to the end of our designated cooking time, and dear mama removed the pan from the oven. Nothing. She put it down with a 'clang'. Nothing.
She lent over it....
And one exploded with a small "PUHH" sound, dissapearing in much the same way- to use wes' analogy- as a small bird would when hit with a shotgun.
When I say dissapeared freinds, I mean it. Now you see it, now its in crumbs all through your hair, your freinds shirt, your mothers eyebrows and your nana's carpet.
We all burst out laughing.
Then the second one exploded.
No adjective could possibly describe our mirth at this point. I have reason to beleive I may have hit the floor at some point, just to make it even more humerous for us all.
Rather tentatively, a towel was placed over the remaining four. That lasted about ten minutes, before my curioscity, catlike in it's severity, took over and I picked out a chestnut.
Sadly, no other explosions incurred, though I do beleive mum burnt her thumb on one of the offenders on the way through.
People be warned- chestnuts are dangerous and fun. I highly recommend them.
That is all.
03 aprile on- campus days suckThey suck harder than a black hole, they suck harder than a Godfrey's vacuum cleaner, and they suck harder than the crappy combover of the spokesperson on the Godfreys ads. Man does he need to wake up.
I went to my first on- campus day the other day. You see i am doing an english unit by correspondance from Macquarie, and despite the fact the term correspondance, or distance education, if you prefer, means you are too far away to come in and learn, they STILL insist on two compulsory on-campus days.
So I went. This involved staying with my absolute maniac of an uncle, which was highly unpleasant, and participating in a tutorial, which was basically a giant in- class discussion of stuff that had already been said in the lectures.
It was so completely and utterly pointless that I learned one singular thing, and I'd already guessed it. It wasn't even that terribly relevant to anything.
Nonetheless never fear, for I have something to look forward to- EASTER!!! Long live the death of Christ! I'm not even religious, and have just insulted anyone who is, but easter gives me about a week and a half of not having to do a thing, and four days of getting wes all to myself... or at least pretty much all to myself, I imagine there may be some food servers involved at one point, but eating is a requirement of life, so I'll get over it.
Oh, and I get to eat copious amounts of moulded chocolate.
Noone could complain about that.
On that topic, I'm off to eat a tim tam.
Happy easter inmates! 18 marzo droll dayJust one of those days where no matter how eventful it's actually been, nothing seems terribly exciting or worthwhile. I get them often, but usually because nothing actually happens anyway!
I have come across other droll day sufferers, though I'm not entirely sure if it is a common phenomenon. I tend to discover similar strangenesses in poeple- for all I know these are one-off things or my own mental projections (yep, I'm trying to get into a psychology course- how could you tell?).
Droll days are not necessarily all bad however- they make one have a greater appreciation for the small trivial fun things- what I generally call trinkets- for example my dancing robot or the bendy pencil I have sitting next to me here. Its on days like these my obsessions with yoyos, sandcastles, contact juggling and other skillful things rev themselves up, only to die later when I cant be bothered practicing.
I'm a pretty much perfect picean, which really gets annoying when your trying to be skeptical.
So hello to all the droll day sufferers out there! Let us rally together and play with yoyos!! 14 marzo it's my birthdayAnd it's been an odd one so far- I'm about half way through. So far it has featured early morning pewter figures, booking of doctors appointments, unexpected rain and a freind being out when I called. Later it will involve grocery shopping and weekly salsa classes.
I blame the neccesity to have my party on the weekend- aside from those hard-core birthday wishers who use the actual day, most everyone has already wished me their best. Those who havent are going to next weekend, and the family- based presents will come into play two days from now on a shopping trip- basically, the actual day has been overshadowed by all the compensatory happenings of the rest of the week.
Not that I mind, of course, quiet birthdays are often not the norm for me, and this one, being my 18th after all, is nicely being spread out over a week instead of a day. The only real downside is I don't think I'll get much study done... Ah stuff it, it's my birthday! 12 marzo The party saga- a continuing storyWell folks, the party has been, though the birthday has not. All in all it was an excellent evening, featuring, amongst other things, half-hearted attempts to make me drink, a surprise version of one of my mother's famous pass-the-parcels (the end of an era, I tells ya), the long awaited return of her chili concarne, and way too much jelly, cream and chocolate cake.
Minour highlights included the mysery apearance of Peta the spider and my Michael Jackson cd (Mum later admitted to sneaking in the latter), some small clockwork ponies, some rather dangerous rubber frisbees, twister on the dancefloor, and a live redback spider (this statement should hearken the reader to the fact that Peta was in fact a very large rubber spider, not to be confused with the bit of mush now on the bottom of Jed's boot).
The punch -given we'd never made one before and had no recepe- was surprisigly successful, especially with my hand-shaped ice float and the distinctly creepy whole tinned plums floating around in it. The chilli, we assume, was just as successful, given that Mum practically made a couldron full in the hopes of having enough left over to have for lunch today, and it was all gone. She should have been a chef, she really should.
I now own a small amount of glasswear, in very big proportions. I swear it's meant to be an earn, not a glass. Needless to say it remained clean and dry for the whole night- again, if i make an assumption that nobody spilt something on it.
So that was the party folks, I got to bed at about 3.30 in the morning, woke up with a full 8 hours sleep at 11.57, and now I have to go and clean the studio (*groan*).
Wish me luck, inmates! If I'm not back in a week, send out a search party. 06 marzo dehydration headaches do not necessarily result from not drinking enough waterWell, i'm back, and all the more depressed from having to leave again. However, in keeping with my promice of before, i am not going to go into that.
I have decided to have a vampire party for my 18th next weekend, and am now thoroughly immerceing myself in the procuring of coffins and red beverages- this will no doubt be harder than expected, and may well be for pretty much naught, given the amount of my freinds who can actually come AND stay for an extended period of time.
So, to all of my freinds who's numbers are not in fact in my mobile phone, this is my other mode of invitation- if you can make it, dress up for me and if there is someone who would like to come and doesn't hate my guts that you know, bring them along too.
The more dead guys in my house the merrier.
Hope to see you there!
03 marzo Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee're off to see...The boyfreind! Huzzah!
I leave at 5 to 5, dear readers, to see my beloved army man, and i thought you'd like to know (given you know basically everything else).
I am in happy zone, as opposed to timezone, aptly named due to the amount of time spent in lines for machines, or the rather acute awareness one develops of how long you've been in there.
Anyway, t'will be a fun weekend, despite a boding feeling i'm carrying around for god knows what reason, and i hope you all have equally satisfactory ones. As such, i am getting your wardens to take you all out on a field trip to the paddock you can see from your cell windows.
Have fun inmates! 19 febbraio a new raceI think, my dear readers and inmates, that I may have inadvertantly created a new breed of teenager.
Well, I did't do it alone, I should say, I think Hollywood may actually be somewhat to blame.
Currently in the teenager speceis there are a few well-known breeds: the goth and to a lesser extent the wannabe goth, the cheerleader type (usually jazz and tap dancers here in Aus), the "intelligensia"- basically an umbrella name for your nerd, geek, dweeb, etc, and, because I couldn't be stuffed going on with this actually quite long list, the last option- the cultured teen.
Most, but not all, of my freinds fit into the cultured teen section- these people enjoy theatre and most other forms of live entertainment, if not doing drama themselves (there is a sub-group of the cultured teen- the performing arts school wanka. I won't go into them). Most cultured teens slot into the intelligensia in one form or another, but not always- usually due to an enjoyment of literature or other cultures. Cultured teen is one of the few breeds that can be aquired both unintentionally and perposefully into one's own personality, which leads to the great variety there is within this breed.
I think with the help of my freinds (Beetles song!Yay!) and of Hollywood, I may have created a second subgroup- the everyday pirate. Everyday pirates enjoy most anything pirate-related, although the more whimsical and less factual seem to be more popular. I partially give credit to Hollywood because I only really noticed this group after the release of "Pirates of the Carribean", when I joined it. the advents of Jenny's discovery of 'international talk like a pirate day' (september 19, for those playing at home), and my own finding- Puzzle Pirates, the only pirate-based internet puzzling game I think could possibly exist- have proven to me once and for all, that when these three elements come together, you end up with the everyday pirate cultured teen.
Beware cultured teens everywhere- this subgroup is very catching! Symptoms inculde saying 'aye' instead of yes, 'arrrrr' at any given opportunity, and throwing or attending pirate parties. It may also result in a minour addiction to an internet game.... 14 febbraio " now i feel loved. think i might have some toast..."...So said my mother after her boyfreind made the obligitory valentines contribution this morning.
Goes to prove how commercial we all know valentines is that the fact i got a package from macquarie university overrode any thoughts of being self-sorry for the lack of my beloved on this 'special day'. Honestly, i love him to bits, but it really shows- mum and i got our pot-plant and flowers respectively, then went on with the day as though it never occurred.
In defence of the holiday- though i wouldn't call it that, since the poor general community still has to work- neither mum nor i had boyfreinds at hand- mine is at adfa and hers is in hospital with a spider bight. If they had been actually with us, maybe i would dissagree with this veiw.
However, all in all, i have reason to beleive saint valentine is no longer spreading his message as he once was across the world.
For example, despite my views above, i was still rather shocked at the thought (though unproved) that today of all days, a freind was going to visit a couple i know. One of them is leaving for uni VERY soon, so one would think that the sanctity of what could only be described as 'international couples and only couples day' would most definately go undisturbed- there is only so much time we teenagers can spend completely alone.
Nonetheless, this blog would also have to be a lament for the lost beauty of the sentiment: the rose sending spree going on at my old highschool as i type would prove later to be the best possible meathod to harden us all- the sending of flowers becomes cheap to those who receive many, and a cause for embitterment to those who receive none. Later, the genuine article from someone who is for the most part NOT shy-ly anonymous can solve this- for me, in the last ever year of school-rose-receiving elegibility.
I suppose in the end i am meerely conforming to the steryotype of the valentines-day-hater to all you readers, but really it's a point of sadness to me- if you know me, which by all accounts you probably do- you also know i adore any chance to celebrate in a non- drunken manner.
Perhaps it is just a bad year for valentines. Lord knows when i get the card that was sent (probably in about a week, with the letter that still hasn't arrived from a while ago) i'll probably perform the greatest hypocritical backflip of all time and turn to mush. However, untill then,
Happy Valentines inmates.
 03 febbraio Catgirls!!!I have seen, i think, enough catgirls to last me an extencive period of time.
You see, in my everlasting appreciation for good illustration, i have taken to the practice of randomly drawing things- and more recently, reading "how to" books on manga- japanese style cartooning, for those people playing at home- and my most recent featured an extremely breif chapter on catgirls, which it claimed were traditionally called 'neko'.
WRONG!
Neko is the word for cat, not catgirl, as my dear aaron was so kind to inform me.
Nonetheless, when my mother informed me that we needed tap-bourds for the dance studio -"Cats"- i couldn't help but think there would be nothing more relelvant- modern, cat related- than a catgirl dancing. don't know what we'll do with the other one...
Anyway, being the dedicated little student-like-person i am, i went on an internet research expedition, looking for examples, poses etc.
the attached pic, incidentally,is from the 'wilde house for wayward catgirls', a sight featuring numerous examples of excellently illustrated, if somewhat european in style, catgirls.
Soooooooooooooooo...many...catgirls. 28 gennaio that woe is meForgive the depressing title, my dear innmates, but really, i have pretty much nothing but depressing stuff for news.
I refuse point blank to write a "god life sux" blog, or a "god i'm bored" one for that matter.
Thus this is to be the ever more worthwile "statement of intention/philosophy" blog.
Yes i feel like crap, BUT
1. I will NOT force you to hear why
2. I will NOT disrupt the privacy of my freinds and loved ones by telling any form of semi-harmful info about them
3. I will NOT bore you with my own boredom. Yes, to all blog writers everywhere, writing "I'm bored" is BORING!!
THANK YOU!!!
and lastly, since this entire blog has been a pointless rant
 , i hope you are all well, and i entreaty you all once again to comment, even if only to say something completely random and unrelated, and to those freinds of mine whom i do not have a reasonable photo of, FOR LORD'S SAKE SEND ME ONE!!!!Thank you innmates, for your kind patronage. 17 gennaio i just got home and i'm eating noodles (or, da big tree)Well inmates, spent another immencely pleasant two days at the hosehold of my dear boyfriend. (slurp)
Of the more momentous activities was going on a little drive and then a littler walk to see a very big tree- it was over 550 yrs old, and as with most trees that have been on this continent conciderably longer than anyone who may be looking at them, it was in an absolutely gorgeous glade-like thing surrounded by ferns that inexplicably remind you of "Jurassic Park". I tried to take a photo, but I sneezed. Kinda looks pretty funky though, so I kept it for the sake of psychodelia. (slurp slurp)
Met an array of jerks in 4-wheel-drives on the way up, clearly high and asking us if we'd seen any weed growing ("no, we've kinda only just got here, YOU #&^%$#*!!!" ). But, they were stupid enough to keep their windows down when the went over the huge puddle on the way in, so they got what was coming to them. Least they actually took the things off-road, in their defence.
So yes, I highly reccomend going out to find a very big tree- there are a lot in Victoria if your determined enough. Huge suckers you can't fit five people around (incidentally, Wes, his dad and I with our arms streatched out only covered about a third in width).
Actually, the main woe of the trip was that my little camera doesn't hold that terribly mutch, especially when your taking films to get in an entire tree...Anyway Wes' family had recently bought a new one, so he brought it along to try it out, and of course, every photo he took of me on my camera looks crappy, every one of me he took on his is an uncharacteristicly good photo.
Damn irony. (slurp)
Well, of you go then. 02 gennaio the party saga continuesHello inmates!
I went off to a paddoc in the middle of nowhere for new years, where me and my beloved friends (despite their lack of comments here) rang in the new year with much alcohol potato and chocolate- i only partook in the latter two of course, but there is nothing more humerous than being the only person able to properly remember the night before... heh heh heh...
Actually, i was not the only one sober- only two of our count (around ten or eleven of us, all up) were actually drunk- poor Cathy and dear old Jed. However many did come to realise that even drinking in moderation did not quite agree with them, a crying shame no doubt.
Mind, it being the hottest weather on record (45-46 degrees) for most of the daylight hours can't have helped- it got cooler in the night of course, but not everyone was prepared for that- one unfortunate lad- our host- did not have a shirt for most of the evening. I personally did not have a blanket, but given my tentmate was once an army cadet, it didn't matter much.
First true insidence of drink-induced vomiting this party, again poor Cathy, and a clear repeat of the hangover sicknesses of previous events. Actually the worst part of the whole thing was when we got home- the reched heat got too much for myself and Wes, and we quite literally collapsed on our respective couches (too hot to share one), and due to a lack of air-conditioning in the dump in which I live, we were reduced to a singular fan, three esky bricks and an ice pack. Lord knows how mum survived.
It was not fun, ladies and gentlepeople.
It has rained since then, hurrah hurrah. A neat 23 for the second day of the new year.
Have a good one folks!
Dismissed. 26 dicembre and so this is x-mas...or, boxing day to be precise. I wasn't about to blog on christmas day for crying out loud!
Well inmates, you will be mildly amused to know that i have a good solid christmas booty, but let me tell you a little story.
Recently my aunt Jane got into making her own chocolates- you know, melt the stuff, buy moulds etc- and when we were off on a shopping trip she asked us to get her some moulds, but since she is the worlds hardest person to buy for, we thought we'd pretend not to get that e-mail and buy her a cool little rotational chocolate making machine- very cute.
So we went to the choc-machine-selling-store, and looked at the little rotational one, and the chocolate fondue fountain, and pondered for an extended period of time, before I picked up the box for a rotational and we continued on to look for other stuff. I carried that box for half an hour, and went out shortly after we got back, to allow mum to wrap some stuff for me. Only then did she find the box was empty. I hadn't noticed.
So mum went back and got a box with something in it.
In the meantime Jane went out and bought her own moulds. Her chocolate recipe said it would make about 30, fill about 4 mould trays, so she bought 2 and did them twice.
In her little bowl of chocolate, made to the exact measurements of her recipe, there was more than half left over. So she made more. Still more than half left over.
Oh dear.
So she called us and asked if we could pick her up some more moulds, since there was a relevant retailer near us, and due to a healthy lack of preservatives, her chocolate was actually perishable.
Dang, not only did we still need to buy moulds, but our chrismas present was now completely redundant.
Mum refused to take it back a third time, so we wrapped it for elsewhere and went after the fondue fountain, but, on thinking about it, decided Jane had probably had enough of chocolate, and eventually bought her some flower pot men.
Christmas lunch, and jane brings her chocolate creations, which are absolutely scrummy, if not slightly alcoholic. While waiting to head off, Jane tells me what she did with the leftover chocoltate, once she'd moulded 'till she could mould no more: She'd coated strawberries.
Exactly what you do with a fondue fountain.
PHEW!
So, from Jane we received copious amounts of leftover chocolate, my boyfriend's family gave us a box of them, my neighbours gave me a box of them, my freind Syera gave me a bag of them, and, to add insult to injury, my uncle and his lady gave me a bracelet- and a box of caramel chocolate sticks.
DEATH BY CHOCOLATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This was not the only irony of my christmas, but i thought you assylum-ers might like to hear it.
Off to the desser hall with you (groan)!
11 dicembre The party sagaBoo inmates.
My next door neighbour Jed turned 18 during our exams, and ended up without a party to celebrate it. When the exams finished, he immediately organised for a random piss-up featuring all of our group. In my back yard. That party was last night.
I might bring it to the general reader's attention that i am the only person in my group who point blanck does not drink- not to say i was the only one sober, but i was the only one with absolutely nothing in their system, so i do not feel i could be more awake-yet-weary if i tried. The fact that twister, spin the bottle and strip poker made breif appearances will not be elaborated on, but there are glow sticks that seem to have moved by themseves to places high and strange, mini cheesles where no mini cheesle has been before, and a once good bench now in splinters.
Jed sat on it.
As to who ended up doing what with the games mentioned above, you will have to go into private conversation with me, as they are usually more private people than they were on the local oval (just down the street) at 2:30 in the morning.
The fact that i got to bed at 3:30 in the morning the night before did not help. READERS, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.
New conclusions: Poodles love water, but not drunk people. The girl is always more remorseful than the boy. Chinese people find the concept of the lighthouse quaint but practical. Asbesdos backyard sheds do not live well with disco balls and dart bourds hanging from them. The hostess' boyfreind is always the life of the party.
I think this hostess may be in denial.
Goodnight inmates. |
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