(no subject)

Quarter Final Countdown: 2 hours 15 minutes.

Um, ow. Okay, so it's not an ear infection. It's my ... lymphs? Is that the word? They're swollen. And painful. *eyes double dosis of painkiller* Ew. but, ow. Argh, I hate being sick.

Um, anyway. Eeee! Game in just a few hours! *runs around like a headless chicken*

And I'd appreciate it if that damn girl!Becks bunny would stop. writing. itself. in my head. Dammit. I can't write this until the end of the Word Cup, and god, Michael, could you be any sappier? *glares at OwenMuse* Fuckers.

Okay, painkillers have been taken, hot chocolate has been had, must go shower.

Englan-Brazil

(Entry updated as the game goes on.)

( First half. )

( Some pictures. )

( Second half. )

And it's over. They won. Bitches

(no subject)

I'd like to die now, please? Fucking Brazil.

Anyway, ( pictures! )

And now, I'm going on a mission from God. Who's with me? Rivaldo is a DEAD MAN! I'll make him an offer he can't refuse. *mutter*

(no subject)

And now, for your daily dose of "Aaaargh!":

( Ow! My eyes! I'm BLIND! )

</lj-cut

Glands: "Ow, dammit."

Am installing PhotoShop. Want to make some Becks manips. (Hee. Manipulating Beckham. Hehehehe. okay, I'm twelve.) Am also updating the RS-X archive.

I'm sure you all needed to know that.

(no subject)

RS-X Archive completely up to date. Well, sort of. :)

Now I just have to make sure to actually keep up with the damn thing.

But first! First we go home, take a long hot shower, drug ourselves to the ears, and get to work on the Becks-n-Owen Page o' LURVE! Heee.

God, I'm on crack.

Okay, then.

Anybody wanna explain to me why I just spend half an hour on the phone with Linz, in English, despite the fact that both of us speak Dutch?

Oi.

(And now I've taken over her accent, too. Dammit.)

(no subject)

( Some sad!Becks pictures. )

( Ehehehe. Um. don't kill me, Leena. )