Hollow? Hollow. Fuckit.

Today is promising to be a busy day. I’ve got tons of house stuff — laundry, dishes, moving furniture, killing bad guys….

Well, ok that last one is more in line with CoH. But, its MY forced vacation — I’ll do with it what I want. After I do the dishes, though.

still have a metric craptonne of Yulish stuff to do. Plus, the dinner party on Thursday. I cannot believe that my birthday has swung around again. Good gravy, I am old. *ducks the shoe thrown by Tam*

Hah, ya missed!

****Whappity! THUD!****

Drat, she’s a two-fisted shoe-flinger.

At any rate, I’m off to do something about the horror that is the laundry. Apparently, working 50+ hours a week for several weeks means that it falls behind in its clothes-warshing. (No! Not the hose! I’ll wash the gorram clothes!)

*pauses, re-reads that last sentence*
I think I may be the only person who could slash Firefly and Silence of the Lambs.

*thinks on that some*
No, I don’t want ANY links to others who may have already done so. I’ve already had my squick this month – thanks goes out to flemco for the zit-popping link.

Wish me luck on the whole housecleaning-laundry-cookie baking thing. And if I’m not back by dawn….call the President.

12 thoughts on “Hollow? Hollow. Fuckit.

    1. Umbrellas

      Clean laundry is piled up on the bed, awaiting industrious hands to put it away. Dirty laundry is sorted into piles upon the floor, mounded up like dirty snow. Its depressing. Its just sitting there. Looking at me.

      I’m going to ignore them for the nonce and make cookies. I like cookies ever so much better.

  1. Wish me luck on the whole housecleaning-laundry-cookie baking thing. And if I’m not back by dawn….call the President.

    The President? Na, I’ll call Positron…

  2. I’ve got some “bad guys” you can kill for me, is there a submission criteria I need to follow to get this underway?

    Good luck!! And why would I call the President, I don’t want you want to propose a war in YourAss or anything.

  3. *puts shoe back on* Let’s go.

    Yeah – age gives extra ep’s in shoe-flinging. You shall soon discover this, my young padibon.

    Lemme speak for us masses attending the aforementioned party, and ask…should we be bringing the fyewd? You’d think that for a party for you and John, we’d be bringing the vittles and letting y’all take it easy for once. (Sorry – still have that Final Sacrifice’s Canadian kid’s voice stuck in my head; makes me laugh. “More fyewd!”)

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