Halloween's a-comin'!

  • Oct. 9th, 2006 at 8:06 PM
the_wanlorn: The Doubtful Guest (Default)
I just finished knitting my Waldo hat. The one roomie who's home was all impressed that omg I knitted it.

In 12 days' time, none of you bitches are gonna be able to find me.

In other news, some cuntface moved my pizza. Which, in general, isn't a problem. But moving it from the fridge to the counter to make room for your shit that fits just as fine elsewhere? So not on it's not even funny.

I had something else to say, but now I can't remember it. WHATEV.

The Housing Saga, Part One

  • Feb. 15th, 2006 at 7:28 PM
the_wanlorn: The Doubtful Guest (Default)

I'm not quite sure which adjective I should use to describe my mood right now. Frustrated? Dissatisfied? Angry? Disappointed? Hurt? Let down? I don't know.

I suppose this tale starts sometime back in December, when we first got the forms for housing. You need to pay deposits, fill out some information, and (if you wanted to) list who you wished to room with next year.

Of course, it was somewhat of a given that Stacy and I would go in together. (The reason for the somewhat will become apparent in a moment). We just had to find out if Jess also wanted to go in with us.

But, I suppose, that was also somewhat of a given. )

Stay tune for part two!

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MICHAEL: One evening, a patient was brought into my clinic in the middle of the night. He was tortured so badly I couldn’t believe he was still breathing. A man was with him. It was the man on your radio. I’ll never forget the voice. He put a gun to my head and explained to me that my patient had robbed him and that he wanted me to save him so the pain would last longer. I did what I could. He said to come here for my money — my blood money. There’s a place between life and death. Amazing how long a man can linger there.
PRESCOTT: That’s enough, all right? Okay. Bring everything upstairs. We’re getting out of here. Tony? Tony, can you hear me?
THUG: What the hell is going on?
MICHAEL: I know this guy. He’ll have people outside the bank, in your truck,and on your boat. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.
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