At my house, rather briefly, still half-considering yielding up my diary to the Hell-empath for the duration. I'd much rather listen to the existential angst of living in three differnet universes, where one is either dead, married (and then dead), or slowly-falling-for-your-bodygaurd/assassin-while-sleeping-with-pool-boy.

I am not asleep or sleeping, for if I attempt that in this house, right now, I will be Food For Fleas. Like my poor pussycat, for whom I have Guilt.

Oh my O. Trapped by Feline Lukiemia and itchy itchy bities. *whimper*

I think that my current soundtrack would be one, long psychic whimper right now.

Random Huggishness goes to the Abby, for putting Useful and Practical advicey-things in my g*book, and for signing it more than once. As little as it gets signed, more than once makes me heen!

I suppose I should do something useful. but regarde:

Dead Nazis:

25 oz creme de menthe
25 oz vodka
25 Jagermeister

or

1.0 oz cinnamon schnapps
1.0 oz peppermint schnapps
1.0 oz Jagermeister
1.0 oz Bacardi 151

and one for the Pan galactic gargle blaster:

1.0 oz bourbon
2.0 oz peppermint schnapps
6.0 oz vodka

the one i had was layered jagermiester and rumpleminze. tasted like greasy listerine. any of these sound much better.

but I /don't/ drink Bourbon.

<<agé chose>>

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