hyenahell

you don't even need to know what he was talking about. because. out of context, i think, it's just as funny.

um. in other news.

still have the lingering crap in my chest, periodic unstoppable coughing fits, the desire to sleep eighteen hours a day. the wildly fluxuating weather does not help. it can't be healthy to go from seventy-five degrees to... whatever fucking coldness it is now. and i know, it's been explained to me, that steep drops or radical changes in temperature or weather does not in fact cause one to become ill. oh, but i believe whole-heartedly it does. like last night, Rhys cut his hair off because, and i quote, "I thought the sickness was maybe stuck in my hair, and if I cut if off I'd feel better." i laughed, and said, "Baby, that's like some fucking medieval shit," then paused, and added, "that's some crazy shit I would think."

how not to make one's self look particularly bright: disqualifying a statement or belief as wildly ridiculous, incredulous, or inane with the words, "that's some shit i would say!".

yeah.

so. i'm going to finish my coffee, get dressed and go buy cigarettes. i know i shouldn't be smoking, what with the consumption and all, but i know if i don't go get my own i'll only smoke Rhys', and enjoy them way less for the intense pain and breathing difficulties that they will no doubt eventually cause. so. away. to do just that. further my demise and all.

uhg.

later, y'all.
-Hyena.