June 5th, 2006

Carravaggio

why does it always rain on me?

It's raining and pouring, and even thundering, on occassion. Never have I been so grateful as to shuck my wet boots and slip into warm, dry uggies as I was today. Bliss.

Meanwhile, thanks to the misogynists who decide to pack panty shields all tightly folded up, mine decided to return to its folded position while I was futzing about with it and thus I gave myself an impromptu and unexpected Brazilian. Yeouch. I are awake now.

And speaking of mysognists and femine hygiene products, to wit, the alleged packaging thereof, which bastard decided upon the oh so flimsy packaging that causes them to unwrap and unpeel themselves while bouncing around in the bottom of my bag and, worse, affixing to my purse, say, so that when, always in a hurry, I rummage about for my purse and finally manage extract it from the depths only to find it flapping a maxi pad about like a tail. In public. A maxi pad that won't detach no matter how hard I try. Arrrgh. Pilot fish indeed. A pox on the person or persons responsible for that design flaw.

Anyways, enough of gruesome realife. These pics of Simmo were posted the other week on johnsimm and I am still going squee. Major squee. Especially the first one. Oh...squee.
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