...remaining still and focused as she occasionally jittered with rage.*

There's a hoard of possibly-drunk people talking really really load ocasionally going "shhh" to each other right outside my bedroomin the living room and it's DRIVING ME FUCKING INSANE.

I want to sleeeeeeeep.

I want them to STFU.

I think I also want to smack them with heavy machinery a shovel. Where's a Murderous!Mort icon when you need it?


* Jeffrey Rowland, I Was a Teenage Billionaire Psychopath

History repeats itself.*

The same post, but with icons. I'm clinging to sanity but the frayed hem of it's skirt, folks.

ETA: If you highlight Murderous!Mort, you might be able to read "What do you think it means, you ignorant hick?" But probably not. *sigh* Can't do anything right, can I?

( Read more... )

Icons ganked from or definately made by (marked ^): 1000pixels^, poezel, lobezna, 50thousandtearz^, darthmaligna^, jonem, blue_marker, yuna_firerose^, palmer_kun, mizery_graphics^, finesseccentric, das_kat.

Angry Link of the Furious Evening:
"Top Favorite Books" lists here.


* Anon.

The moral of this story?*

I am a horrible, horrible human being.*


I really miss living alone. Currently I'm sharing the apartment with 2 other gals. If the only problem was that I never saw them and was alone 90% of the time I was in the apartment, I'd be able to cope.

But no.

I am sick and tired of juggling my dishes over the dirty corpses of three-days-worth of other people's dishes, tired of opening the garbage cupboard only to find a bloated milk cartons balanced precariously on top. (Yes, I know I could clean it all up. But it's the principle of the thing. Just because I'm home the most doesn't mean I have clean up after their mess. There were frickin' fries in the sink, for gods' sake.) We supposedly have turns at cleaning the apartment, but for the love of kittens, clean up after yourself. And no, your clothes does not take a week to dry out in the kitchen.

I am also just plain tired because I got to sleep 'round 2:20 am, lulled by loud chatter and the smell of cigarettes.**

*grumble*

And I got totally spoiled for the ending of The Brave, not by the original poster, who posted something acceptably vague, but by people saying "ZOMG spoilarz!"

In totally unrelated news, I completely failed at writing anything, despite knowing the next bit I need is a Floyd&Macaria conversation. I also failed at calling people. Will rectify today, particularly my great aunt, who's birthday it is today. (And my uncle was born on Halloween, so ain't we just the coolest.)


Links of the day:
Gin and the Devil comic
Vagina Dentata
ursulav's Deviant Art Gallery and her (I'm asuming it's the same person) post on cooking, which recieves good advice.
marypseud, on metaquotes, gives a metaphor on writing amateur fiction as a hobby, whilst dlpn01 posts on authors notes interspersed in a fiction, which leads to a wonderful discussion, featuring The Princess Bride and other good examples.
theferrett waxes hilarious on the new $1 US coins.

PS: Happy Eat-Chocolate-Hearts Day.
ETA: Re-tagging entries. So far: May 2005. It be slow indeed.


* Jeffrey Rowland, I Was a Teenage Billionaire Psychopath
** Which, btw, the roomies totally bitched about when a girl came to see the apartment and said she smoked. "Oh no, we couldn't possibly let her live with us! She'll smoke in the house! She'll bring friends over and they'll smoke in the house! THe horror!"