No matter which way you look at it, this is gratuitous hot action.
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| Who wants to change oil now? |
Now then.
Tomorrow I pay a visit, along with a cohort, to the Peterson Automotive Museum. There is an annual auction there with motorcycles and older cars and other such trinkets. Waking up at the ungodly time of Before I Want To Get Up - which is an approximate time somewhere between 6:30 and 7:00 on weekends - does not a happy, awake, alert Ish produce. Working on a Saturday is also not an Ish favorite.
Why the Harkonnen am I going tomorrow? Well...shit. Guess I didn't really think that one through entirely. That's ok. I can do anything at any time any-fucking-where. Because I don't have to drive. God bless reclining passenger seats (yeah, I'm an easy convert: give me smallish creature comforts, here's my soul).
Tomorrow, Sassy goes to some museum with this one girl who, I hear tell, has killed a man. Conventional logic tells me to fear this union and interaction, for the pollution of my gentle, innocent Sassy's mind with these murderizable ideas is a terrible eventuality. No, not just to fear it, but to loathe it as well for defying my newfound religious convictions based on reclining passenger seats!
But then I realize Sassy's already corrupted on account of being my mate.
Why is this interesting to you? It isn't. You know what is? Me posting random shit.
I shall leave you with a song.
Tomorrow I pay a visit, along with a cohort, to the Peterson Automotive Museum. There is an annual auction there with motorcycles and older cars and other such trinkets. Waking up at the ungodly time of Before I Want To Get Up - which is an approximate time somewhere between 6:30 and 7:00 on weekends - does not a happy, awake, alert Ish produce. Working on a Saturday is also not an Ish favorite.
Why the Harkonnen am I going tomorrow? Well...shit. Guess I didn't really think that one through entirely. That's ok. I can do anything at any time any-fucking-where. Because I don't have to drive. God bless reclining passenger seats (yeah, I'm an easy convert: give me smallish creature comforts, here's my soul).
Tomorrow, Sassy goes to some museum with this one girl who, I hear tell, has killed a man. Conventional logic tells me to fear this union and interaction, for the pollution of my gentle, innocent Sassy's mind with these murderizable ideas is a terrible eventuality. No, not just to fear it, but to loathe it as well for defying my newfound religious convictions based on reclining passenger seats!
But then I realize Sassy's already corrupted on account of being my mate.
Why is this interesting to you? It isn't. You know what is? Me posting random shit.
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| Your doom |
I shall leave you with a song.
CODAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
ReplyDeleteJoy is dangerous, I'll agree to that. Also, I read "union" as "unicorn" and wondered why conventional logic told you to fear them.
Logic = UNICORN LOVE
Is nothing sacred? That was a confession for the privacy of virtual strangers. My goodness.
ReplyDeleteAs for me corrupting Sassy... is this a joke? Sometimes people mistakenly call me Sister Joy.
Fear this unicorn. hahahahaha. I wish that was what it had read.
ReplyDeleteSay-cred? ...don't know the meaning of the word. ;)
ReplyDeleteCoda's gaze made a little bit of my poop ooze out, I got scared, and the feline literally scared (just a little bit of) the shit out of me.
ReplyDeleteAlso, note that I've had the hots for Jessica Rabbit forever.
MOAR!