Gogglefog
I'm feeling pretty good. Overwhelmed, but pretty good. Pretty. Good. Maybe. Breasts can do that for you. I think I'm not in the minority with that line of thought, either.
We're going back to Texas. I want to go now.
I'm in a crunch-time.
I have a job interview on campus, gasp, for those of you who were beginning to believe your darling was a shut-in of some collegiate variety. Though that is not way the fuck off the mark, we're working on it.
I'm going to a concert.
Um. I'm so fucking tired. My french test is going to be...insanely bad.
Present+futur
Imparfait+conditionnel
Plus-que-parfait+conditionnel passe.
Right.
Easter. Today. Was. Good.
God, I need some crack to fill in the, well, cracks.
Holy fuck, is my eardrum bleeding?
I'm so manic, I make Drop Dead Fred look soporific. My hunny bunny is staring at me. His big yellow eyes are freaking me out. No. This does not mean I will not eat him.
So Lent's over. Huh.
Please don't judge me on this entry. I'm much brighter usually when I'm on the sauce.
Love, your ever-loving love,
Quickie G. Irl
