(no subject)

[phosfate]

Arrrr...it snows, we're having a swell time sculpting a replica of Balin's Tomb, and then Mr There's-A-Bee-On-My-Snout-Get-It-Off-Get-It-Off suddenly makes a break for the Slow-Moving House, and goes into hibernation in the attic. Moron.

This is no fun. Bored. Lonesome.

I guess I'll go back to the Whorehouse and make me a latte.

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[cocoajava.livejournal.com]

*joined!*