Happy new year.

Resolved that Rabbit will finish at least one of these damn plauging novels in her head.

Resolved that Rabbit will get out of this rut and actually be doing something that doesn't slowly leech her soul out of her toeses by the end of the year.

Resolved that deepest poverty is preferable to clinging to the whatever-metal plated semblances of relatively normal lifelike whatever.

Resolved that I am going to see Babbit this year and give her a great big hug. See Babbit!? It's a res-o-lution. So there.

In other news. My site's provider just upgraded, and now they have a great and goregeous statistics beast. I think my favorite googles thus far are:

murfius-- yay for the black hatted man!

strange but beautiful-- :)

things which are made out of crocodile skin-- for whatever reason, Cruella.

pomegranite wine-- slurp.

how to build a tower see the step-by-step guide!

into a velvet thong nails-- mrp? Nails didn't tell me about this one... though it does sound like him. ;)

apetalous or estimate or creativity or nazis or crackpot-- ... a? akay.

names for huntress woman-- yes. She hath several.

effiminate boy- *snicker*

painless wrist slitting-- one of just many suicide queries that will, apparently, get you my page. Ai. Just because Persephone can do it, doesn't mean you too, keeds.

nazi mouse-- hiel cheese!

gold watch fireplace vampire-- I dunno, but I like it. I may have to write about it.

erotic poems about feathers-- yes! I may have to write some of those too! How's that for a topic?

nazis or decomposing or jed or reinvent or antiredeposition-- again, I fail to get it.

princess raped in castle-- brrm, hoom. I know exactly what result that pulled up too. Erg.

hornblower fanfic slash-- No, no, that's not me. You want this.

seagull in the desert Someone directly requested my poem! how /sweet/!

pritty laddies-- yes please.

matzoh blood-- ew. So not kosher.

orange pocket watch asx-- another image I just like.

Anyway. Spent the Event at Bailieys, eating beer cheese soup in a bread boule, slurping woodchuck amber cider and playing D&D. Mimosas for breakfast. It's warm today, and my sweatshirt smells like Dune by Dior. Incidentally, Christian Dior is one of the few still-living Real People I enjoy writing about. See this for rhyme and reason.

And with that. Fun and good times to you all. So Here's to us! Who's like us? (see title).

<<agé chose>>

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