muppetchrist

Crom, it's cold in here this morning. My joints are aching.

Wrote a super long blog about school and love, then brought forth the Backspace massacre. I may still write it this weekend. I'm hungover and nauseous, though, so anything I write ends up sounding like, "Me hurty head. Me hurty heart. Me want tits in face. Me want warm. Me like food."

I hope you have an amazing weekend in which at least one of your secret desires, one that you've held for years and years, gets fulfilled. That level of amazing.

"The army, though, I won't fail you now."