Some Blog

the rah rah rah is awesome.  right now i’m hearing rah and maybe rah rah (but it could be an echo) so my ears are perking up and i’ll see, i will see, i shall see…

flowers are loverly.  why infect it with the cack hummus? leave the cack out of things.

the wrong does not balance the rah.

My work neighbor just walked by and said: “Wow, [Some Girl] those are some scented flowers.”

[I had a rant here, but I edited it out, I try not to write overwhelmingly negavtive things about my co-workers on my blog.]

I’ve got the rah rah rah and I don’t care who knows it.

Seriously, fuck with my flowers and I will go all momma bear on your ass.

(I know that it seems like I am over reacting slightly, but you really have to know the person and the tone of voice.)

Livi, I read your rah (rah) post, can’t wait to read more. It seems that an emotion eerily similar to love is floating around the ethos, lots of girls falling for boys…and boys sending the pretty smelling petal-ed things to the offices.

I have not received a single pretty smelling petaled thing. Alas.

Cack hummus is bad
But Somegirl would still eat it
Smeared across Bruce’s chest

Oh Dear Boy-

Bruce was sooooo not amused by your playful playfullness.

I, myself, laughed heartily. If only you could see the visual of cack hummus covered Bruce, the way I see it, oh, the laughter that would be had. The laughter I say, the laughter.

Bruce would have to be rendered unconscious (clubbed like a baby seal) for me to ever enjoy the pleasures of edible sex action.

Off to bed, recovering from a big nasty sinus infection.

Ta