malloreigh

hello, everyone.

i'm sorry i haven't been keeping up. i moved in with my favourite pixxy yesterday, and life has been really hectic and probably will be for the next little while. i'm about to head to bed, but i decided to update while i'm here. i wish i could reply to all those comments, but i'm being told to "hurry up and come to...
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argh! the internet is crashing! for some reason, i've only found two sites that work for me -- this one (luckily) and slashdot. how very frustrating! posh thinks it's a dns issue. hopefully they're working on it... i'm addicted to the internet.

maybe tomorrow i should move in with pixxy. hmm!

still need more ideas for what i should carve on my retarded...
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i turned on auto-decline for friends requests. if someone wants to be my friend, now they have to post in my journal! no more random people that've never talked to me before. i feel bad, though. i hate auto-decline... it seems prohibitive.

anyway -- i got a pumpkin today. it looks like it has down syndrome. quite amusing. i think i'll carve it tonight or...
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cuddle puddles are the greatest. i smell like watermelon and tangerine. i'm talking to an old friend that i've missed dearly on msn. lunch with ma gurlz today. set yesterday. a visit from bettina at work. all is well. all is finally well.

i should go nap... a tired mal makes for a grumbly-tummied mal.

ho noes! three minutes til i have to leave for work, but i can't go without updating this morning! my set's up today... it's such a nice feeling to check every morning and then the one morning you don't expect it, there's your naked arse on the internet. (blame the UK girls for my use of arse... it's just so much cuter than the north...
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the new indieclick banners are out and my face is on them. i keep reloading pages but i haven't seen them yet. if anyone sees a new indieclick banner with my mug on it, let me know. i'll feel good.

pixxy slept through her favourite band last night. i feel so bad. we called her and called her and called her and after the show...
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we used to leave the blue lights on
and there was a beat
ever since you have been gone
its all caffeine-free
faux punk fatigues
said it all before
they try to kick it, their feet fall asleep
get no harm done no
none of them want to fight me

combat baby come back baby
fight off the lethargy
dont go quietly
combat baby
said...
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i think my insides are shriveling up and dying, but for some reason my ribcage feels too tight. it makes no sense. nothing makes any sense. at least my eyes look pretty when i cry.

mod night was awesome. i ran into lemonkid, sinkingheart and wike (who's gone grey, sadly). we originally set out to go to eighties night at evolution, but leningrad got a call from a cute boy so we headed in a different direction. most of that is irrelevant to non-victorians.

anyhow.

i need to get laid.

i also need god emperor of dune and heretics...
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motherfucking cock.

i am missing bright eyes at the commodore ballroom in vancouver right fucking now. today. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?

CONOR!

breathe.

listening to bright eyes when i'm sad is such a strange thing. on the one hand, i love it because conor totally understands me. and oh, how i love bright eyes. but on the other hand, it sure as hell doesn't help me feel better most of the time. boo fucking hoo. go home and cry, emo girl.

i really want one of those...
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