Right then.

Melle: *gives you a Sean Biggerstaff-shaped chair*
V: And I just typed monistat.
Melle: There, now he's doing something USEFUL
V: Yeast infection, anyone?
Melle: ...?
Melle: (And I almost misread that as Yeates infection.)

(no subject)

I have come to the conclusion that there must be a sign on my head I can't see saying "Quidditch Geek Hotel," or something.

This random realisation brought to you by the letters S, P, A, and M.

(no subject)

Stupid song. Stpuid random RP characters. Stupid brain.

(Need to edit my RP icon to add thiggs, I think. And maybe girl!Marcus, since she's the reason for this entry. But, yes. Stupid me.)

(no subject)

I have finally found yarn for my brother's scarf. Let the frantic knitting begin!

In other news, remind me to never take my RP characters shopping with me. "But it's glittery!" ""This would look great on you!" Right. Fuckers. However, I do now have a nice sweater, a gorgeous pull-over (which isn't black, blue or purple, even!) and a pair of silver tights.

Now I go get groceries, do laundry, cean, and wrap presents. Whee! I love Christmas time!

(That is, I will once I get rid of this effing headache. Owwww.)

(no subject)

The Two Towers Countdown: 3 days (No, that's not a miscount.)
Birthday Countdown: 8 days
Christmas Countdown: 10 days

I have a to do list for today and tomorrow. It has 11 points, and that's not including "wrap presents", "roleplay and chat", "do laundry", "update various sites if at all possible", "start knitting", or "go see a movie". Oi.

However, once all that's done, I my apartment will be clean as fuck, with all the junk stashed out of sight as it should be, and ready for me to put my tree up on Thursday. (I should start counting down to that, too.) I also have some nice new clothes, and I got Joey (and some random touchy boylove picture!) in the mail from reggie_mbq, so all is not bleak.

Right, then. Off I go.

Memo:

To: Whoever conceived of the idea to give migraine painkillers a coffee tase
From: Melle
Re: Ew?

Yo,

I hate you. Fuck off and die.

Nauseously yours,
Melle