The current mood of Lochinvar at www.imood.com

The big chill.

01.24.03 - 2:53 p.m.

It's official. This house is damn fucking cold.

Our pipes are froze. There are ice chips in the milk, the fucking toilet-bowl water is frozen; the fucking wet clothes in the washer have frozen to the sides. There are ice chips in my socks. I am less than amused.

Going Across Town to run D&D campaign tonight, a whole host of monsters to bubble out of the brain of me, while being assaulted by the slutty diabetic blact-furred gent and fled from by the catankerous, three-legged queen. These are chums of the feline variety, of course. Callie is the cancer-cat who'd been staying with us from before, post-surgery. Anyway.

The Fox wants the computer, and I want more ginsing tea. And maybe a flash of warm inspiration, perchance.

<<agé chose>>

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