If I ran The Universe, instead of fortune cookies, you’d get a fortune clam. You’d have to work to open it, and it would speak harsh truths: “Sherry gave you herpes,” or “Your parents leave everything to your sister, because you’re really adopted.”
Good Guys George and Fred Weasley
OH MY GOD.
My kind of cellar.
Labels are so limiting. Just drink. Except the dessert wine. Blech.
If I got to pick my heaven, it would have a night sky like this. And onion rings. Definitely onion rings. OH! And boobs! Gotta have boobs.
Odds of me having to worry about what I’ll find in heaven?
Badass pic though (see http://apod.nasa.gov)
Valium dreams: Hey! We’re coral snakes. We’re coming to get you. Tee-hee. See how festive we are? Just so you know it’s us in your car, your silverware drawer, or under your desk. Gotta move. Byeeee.
“I believe the Universe wants to be noticed.” (John Green, “The Fault in Our Stars”)
I’ve always seen these beside the road, but they have never been for someone I’ve missed so much, whose loss I’ve felt so acutely, whose death has so angered me.
Kiss. Naked. Secret.
Hmmm… that could describe my current dilemma.
It’s not nearly as exciting as it sounds.
SEX, TALK, READ.
OH MY GOD! That totally describes me!
Okay me. Rage. Men. Lust.
Um… I guess this is true. But how to tell Him…
Now my hair itches.
Arm. Passion. Kick.
I thought I saw fellatio.
I did have 2 sodas yesterday and I never drink soda.
Suicide. Dread. Secrets.
I’m not looking diagonally enough. Does it work diagonally?
Flesh. Fleshmen? Scum
Sin. Passion. Coke. In the day, there were times where snorting coke led to passion and sin. Uncanny!
“I like baseball, movies, good clothes, fast cars whiskey, and you… what else you need to know?”
(John Dillinger in “Public Enemies”)