i rarely post here.
i rarely post. period.
i showed up to work half an hour late today. although my boss told me to be here at 1:30, apparently the basketball pre-game started at one. i am not upset about missing the pre-game, mostly because i loathe the idea of basketball on the radio, but i am upset about missing 30 minutes worth of dolluhs (ie around 3 dollars-thats a box of tampons).
also, whenst i arrived, there was no log for me to use. logs pretty much outline the commercials that are supposed be run. so i had to run around, already late, printing things off on the printer that is about, oh, a mile from the board that i am tied to. everything is fucked up, and i am hoping rick isnt mad at me, even though i am the only competent person around here, as well as the only asshole who will find themselves working here today. fuck corporate ladders. i need a hot air balloon.
i know i am boring you, but what is worse:
last night, new years eve, i fell asleep at 10:30 while watching the history of sex on the history channel and eating peanutbutter pie.
i suppose i could use the excuse that we had thrown a party the night before and i was just SPENT on new years eve, but i hardly drank, and even in drinking was not remotely intoxicated (unlike my significant other who had to be put to bed so i could keep him from publically groping me any longer).
and robin made a comment about what danny and my children will be like.
that scared the hell out of me.
thanks.
i am so that girl with the boyfriend that i always hated. tied to him-not because he wants me to be, but because i want to be. it is disgusting and horrible, and terribly deliciously fantastic all at once.
and you didnt creep me out stephen, but situationally, it was a little awkward.
also.. wes+sarah burnham= i got nuthin.
so many nothings running through my head. this desk is sticky. russ the morning guy made it sticky. he creeps me out. i hope he just spilled coffee or something.
Oh, tish. I really ought to put a cork in it sometimes.
well i have HEARD that you are a big fan of girl parts…”these..and this”
And as for the title? I beg to differ. *pinch*
Trap or die, motherfucker. TRAP OR DIE.
pish posh
Beautiful young Hailey, I honestly feel you have no idea of my identity. I am no more then the breeze you feel as you step from a doorway on a cold winter’s night, yet in a moments notice I tower high above you stalking you and your every move. Lingering just over your shoulder, my warm breath along your ear. My tongue twitches at your earlobe as I remain unnoticed prowling behind you, my prey. I desire no more then the blood that keeps your body pumping, to but quench my thirst with your flowing red streams. My love for you, as you are, causes near devistation in my nightly unlife. An unsoul I remain and a soul you shall stay, for I could never bring harm to the neck of my one true love. In time the temptations brought on by myself will lead me to tear your flesh from bone and indulge on every last bit of breathing tissue upon your glorious and heavenly body. Skin so smooth and suculant my nerves twitch at each and every thought of your body’s sweet aroma. A dream has been at mind, yet remains unspoken for the lust was far to vulger for the ears of my love. In time I’ll feast upon your soul, but not like any other, I will consume all entities that are you and bring every bit that is you into my mind and unspirit. We will be as one inside my body full-filling the destiny that is mine.
If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, desist: it’s really not me.
and the true identity is finally known!
..all this time i really did think it was steve.
who stole my name?…..damn you to the pearly gates of the lord’s greatness…..Excepted by your Savior only due to the sorrow he feels for the way that you fell. Falling to the ground with torn flesh from the throat and chest. Your body dismantled and violated, yes, violated. The blood trickles no more for it has been syphoned from your withered soulless carcus. Your face fully extented in shock and frozen in time. Dry to the bone your pale crackled skin chips with each poke of the stick by the local preteens. Shreds of random organs lay around severed from one another, and torn from your chest your heart no where in sight. Your blackened blood pumper feasted upon by the dark desolate soul known to mankind as Vlad The Impaler. You claim my name, I claim your soul. You’ve basically just eaten your own heart out.
And Communism is a really good idea.
This commenting system certainly is useful and worthwhile.
The above was RPS, not vlad.
Stephen: braying jackass.
yeah they are totally like my favorite band..after the butthole surfers
You son of a. . .!
I introduced Robin to the Queefs; Robin really likes them now.