Bad id: "blurification" (There is no flooble chatterbox with this id. It may have been deleted, or never existed. You can sign up for a new account if you wish.)
argh. i'm officially bankrupt. it's been awhile since the ATM ridiculed me with the dreaded "get a job, you pitiable ponce with less than $20" message. part time job recommendations, anyone?
played some long-due F355 with joe today. pretty certain that a kart session would bring an end to this PMS. then again, i'd have to get a job. bleh.
i'll get my 1967 mini eventually. just you wait.
some guy struck up a little kopi-shop tok while we were at S-11. i'll attempt to illustrate in the form of *koff* poetry. sheesh. menstruation does wonders.
curious george
george, oh george,
a time most opportune you shook our hands,
an old tutor you readily claimed to be.
within ten minutes presented a plan,
periodically sipping your cup of tea.
george, oh george,
you didn't have to waste your time on me,
but your sense of humor
never ceased to amaze us three.
george, oh george,
if only you had known.
people are trying their best to clarify feminism,
and there you are in a world of your own,
reciting twenty-plus years of political euphemisms.
george, oh george,
in a state of confusion,
you had to become my acquaintance.
good thing that i know naught about the state's affairs,
else i'd have pretty much kicked your ass.
george, oh george,
can you not see?
the sheriff is doing you a massive favour.
woodbridge isn't that bad a place after all;
the xenophobic head nurse wants you to have a ball.
george, oh george,
please be wary of that tree;
george. george. george!
welcome to the 21st century.
