Haha. Yep. I'm sitting at the house, wasting away.
We were supposed to go to PEI today, but the weather is expected to be shitty, so the plan was scrapped in favour of sitting around more.
And by sitting around, I mean, that I'm blogging for the next ten minutes, and then I'm going to leave this place. And never come back.
Or just go visit the G for the first time in like, 23 hours and see if I can't find my cat under the wood pile. And have coffee with Dave.
Apparently the G is going under a lot of stress these days, probably due to the fact that they have no events coordinator. Which is me. And the passive-agressive ruling class (Dave) is now left to fumble at odds with the nature of the house. Which is messy, and lawless. And he has no buffer for directing the populace. (I am also head of Artists and Repertoire and Public Relations.) I think I should go and consult him, and from there, we should schedule a) a press conference and b) additional signage for the bathroom and kitchen. Perhaps a new campaign concerning the CatRev. Haha....
I got a sweet elbow tattoo. I'm quite pleased with it. THX2MAWGLI.
Taylor is a rock n' roll cobra, and he had a sweet pearl earring. So I said so, and he let me have the other one. So now I look like Pete Burns.
Also, this is my horoscope for today:
"buying your clothes a few sizes too small isn't the answer -- what kind of incentive is that? You'll just have a bunch of outfits that don't fit, you fat ass. If you really want to make a dent in that blubber, move more and eat less. It's that simple."
HAHAHAHAHA. Who writes these things? Certainly they are on the payroll of the Patriarchy. Jesus H. Christ....
People of the world. Don't make dents in your blubber, unless you're creating a pocket to store something that makes you happy.
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