how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
how did it come to this?
DEAR FRIENDS,
SORRY FOR THE CAPS BUT I AM VERY VERY EXCITED RIGHT NOW AND BEING VERY VERY EXCITED MEANS I GET TO WRITE IN CAPS.
OMFG IM SO BLOODY AMUSED.
I SAW THIS LINK FROM AN EXTREMELY RANDOM SITE AND IT JUST EFFING CRACKED ME UP.
TO FRIENDS WHO SURVIVED THE HORROR THAT WAS MY SINGING THE ENTIRE XMAS WEEKEND....YOU'LL HAFTA EXPERIENCE IT ALL OVER AGAIN.
LISTEN TO IT HERE
MAKE SURE U LISTEN TO IT AND TELL ME WHAT U THINK!!!!!!!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHA
we are very bored ppl.
and i really do like that face.
and val suggested i stare at the face for one minute. WTH. we are all mad.
Switch me on turn me up dont want it baudelaire just glitter lust switch me on turn me up i want to touch you you're just made for love
goldfrapp rocks my socks.
listen to them yourself
i know.
im feeling so gay now. :)
please forgive me if i act a little strange,
for i know not what i do.
feels like lightning running through my veins,
everytime i look at you.
help me out here all my words are falling short,
and there's so much i want to say.
want to tell you just how good it feels,
when you look at me that way
-david gray, pleas forgive me
i find that, when words fail me, i take comfort in pictures.
me, jess n jac - the planeteers.
tom was angry that i was on friendlier terms with santa...
but he cheered up when i offered to share it.
ryan and his oozy nipples.
brandon with his annoying rendition of twinkle twinkle that i cant get out of my head now.
ask me nicely and i might sing it for you.
brandon with his spastic face. say CHEESE
and this when i was very bored, and on msn.
de·sid·er·a·tum (d-sd-rtm, -rä-)
n. pl. de·sid·er·a·ta (-t)
Something considered necessary or highly desirable: “The point is not that the artist has ‘penetrated the character’ of his sitter, that commonplace desideratum of portraiture” (Robert Hughes).
hid·e·ous (hd-s)
adj.
1: grossly offensive to decency or morality; causing horror; "subjected to outrageous cruelty"; "a hideous pattern of injustice"; "horrific conditions in the mining industry" [syn: horrid, horrific, outrageous]
2: so extremely ugly as to be terrifying; "a hideous scar"; "a repulsive mask" [syn: repulsive]
that's it then. its all hideous desiderata at the end of the day isnt it?
LOL.
seasons greetings.
the previous post isnt gonna make much sense.
whatever you know. it just doesnt.
she doesnt need comfort, she needs a doctor
why betray your integrity and my trust?
her friend conspired with her to tell lies. can she be trusted by this friend? and can this friend be trusted? one who has and must have encouraged her to tell lies!
how many lies has she told? what am i to do?
can anything good come out of things which must live on lies?
WHY WHY WHY!
HAVE WE FAILED? WE HAVE FAILED!
today is the beginning of the last days of my life.
i know its been ages since the game came out and i know people are playin other stuff now but aoe is such an awesome game that can guarantee to take a few hours off a boring day at least.
so if anyone would like to join me they can click here to download the installer.
on for 7 days or 25 downloads.
drop me a message and play with me wont you?
Start off with 100% and minus off 1% for each thing that has happened to you.
Smoked.
Drank alcohol.
Cried when someone died.
Been drunk.
Had sex.
Been to a concert.
Given a handjob/gotten a handjob.
Given a blowjob/gotten a blowjob.
Been verbally sexually harassed.
Verbally sexually harassed somebody.
Felt someone up and/or been felt up.
Laughed so hard something came out of your nose.
Cheated on a boyfriend/girlfriend before.
Been cheated on by a boyfriend/girlfriend.
Been to prom.
Cried at school.
Gotten lost in a WalMart or a department store.
Went streaking.
Given a lap dance.
Had someone of the opposite sex in your room.
Had someone of the opposite sex sleep over.
Slept over at someone of the opposite sex’s house.
Kissed a stranger.
Hugged a stranger.
Went scuba diving.
Driven a car.
Gotten an xray.
Hit by a car.
Had a party.
Done drugs.
Played strip poker.
Got paid to strip for someone.
Ran away from home.
Broken a bone.
Eaten sushi.
Bought porn.
Watched porn.
Made porn.
Had a crush on someone of the same sex.
Been in love.
Frenched kissed.
Laughed so hard you cried.
Cried yourself to sleep.
Laughed yourself to sleep.
Stabbed yourself.
Shot a gun.
Trash talked someone and then acted like their best friend the next day.
Watched TV for 9 consecutive hours.
Been online for 9 consecutive hours.
Watched an animal die.
Watched a person die.
Had sex and/or messed around somewhere with at least 1 person present.
Pranked somebody.
Put somebody in the hospital.
Snuck into someone’s room and/or your own room after being out.
Kissed somebody of the same sex.
Dressed punk.
Dressed goth.
Dressed preppy.
Been to a motocross race.
Avoided somebody.
Been stalked.
Stalked someone.
Met a celebrity.
Played an instrument.
Ridden a horse.
Cut yourself.
Bungee jumped.
Ding dong ditched somebody.
Been to a wild party.
Got caught stealing something.
Kicked a guy in the balls.
Stolen a boyfriend/girlfriend from a friend.
Went out with your friend’s crush.
Got arrested.
Been pregnant.
Babysat.
Been to another country.
Started your house on fire.
Had an encounter with a ghost.
Donated your hair to cancer patients.
Been asked out by someone that you never though you’d to be asked out by.
Cried over a member of the opposite sex.
Had a boyfriend/girlfriend for over 3 months.
Sat on your ass all day.
Ate a whole carton of ice cream all by yourself.
Had a job.
Gotten cut from a sports team.
Been called a whore.
Danced like a whore.
Been mistaken for a celebrity.
Been in a car accident.
Been told you have beautiful eyes.
Been told you have beautiful hair.
Raped somebody.
Danced in the rain.
Been rejected.
Walked out of a restaurant without paying.
Punched someone/slapped someone in the face
100 - 52 = 48.
We lit types — so obsessed. With symbolism, coincidence, signs, literary devices. Pregnant pauses. So obsessed with tragedy, and obsessed with obsession. You’re in love with the idea of being in love with me. And I’m in love with the idea of you being in love with me. Another lifetime perhaps, another place.
- from a random site.
people dont want the truth, they want lies.
they think they want the truth, but they want lies.
they say love is a many splendored thing. i say it hardly is. it makes you create unworldly expectations of another and amplifies your pain when said other fails to achieve them. it hurts you for some reasons remotely unrelated to you. it heightens your paranoia; makes you feel things that aren't there. its like a disease of the brain - it eats you up and you feel misery and there are not signs on your body that show it 'cause its all in your head.
nobody sees how you feel.
love soars. it brings you up to places you only read about in books. you can never really understand it - not from books or movies or other people - until u feel it. it is like a drug - albeit a hallucinogenic one for it makes you see things about the other person that really arent there. you imagine things that might not neccesarily be true about that person but you see it nonetheless because you want to see it. the world seems a brighter place when it really is not.
but when the euphoria of love wears away - like a drug invariably does - you come crashing down back to earth. the higher you float up to, the greater your fall. like the cracks in Paradise in kubla khan you begin to see the cracks in the supposed perfection. you see mortal failings - inherrent in everybody - that u had convinced yourself the apple of your eye had managed to escape.
nobody can ever be perfect.
the revelation deals a deadly blow to you and you wonder - when curled up in the corner of your room feeling nothing but melancholy and heartache - if all this is ever worth it. is is ever worth it to deal out your feelings, only to have them dealt back in multitudes of pain, sorrow, tears and anger? love is like a game of cards. you deal them, and u either win or lose. losers lose, winners take all. gambling always ensues a loss. when you think u are on a winning streak and feeling so high like you can never fall or come down again, you inevitably lose.
the one steadfast rule of gambling is that the player ultimately loses - if u play long enough.
which is why commitment is a bitch. commitment is a bitch that bites you right back in the ass even when u feed it or nuture it, give it a nice little kennel to live in and call it fondly by cuteass names like pigsy or cookie which it probably never responds to unless it was feeling hungry.
even with all the setbacks we humans are an undeterred species. we go back time and again to the suffocating confines of love, getting hooked on the temporary feeling of pure happiness, hoping that one day things will all work out. we try so hard to get to the other side of the fence - the good side where everybody wears white and complete each other's sentences. the side where everything fits and everybody agrees with one another. we scrape our knees and fall one too many times. we bleed.
and still we go on.
love is, and will always be, one of the cruel ironies of life.
There are many forms of love and affection, some people can spend their whole lives together without knowing each other’s names. Naming is a difficult and time-consuming process; it concerns essences, and it means power. But on wild nights who can call you home? Only the one who knows your name. Romantic love has been diluted into paperback form and has sold thousands and millions of copies. Somewhere it is still in the original, written on tablets of stone. I would cross seas and suffer sunstroke and give away all I have, but not for a man, because they want to be the destroyer and never be destroyed. That is why they are unfit for romantic love. There are exceptions and I hope they are happy.
- jeanette winterson. oranges are not the only fruit
