Slump.

And with nothing better to do, she decided to window shop in the hospital. "Ooooh, if I'm ever sick and hospitalized with an intravenous drip hooked to a vein, will somebody love me enough to get me one of those fruit hampers? Maybe I prefer chocolate. OooooOOoOooOoh, get well soon BALLOONS!"

Mood: Grim.

Kitteh disapproves of talent going before its time. Lilo, Amy Wino, clean your acts up.

Ahem.

Keeping At Stiff Upper Lip turned two today. You promised her a pony.

Blee!

We had two nights of Chinese opera at our neighbour's funeral. People came and went, car doors slammed open and shut, and oh, how I longed to release our killer canines into the madness!

Lick.

On her exposed left arm, near her shoulder, was the perfect scar-- a raised, pale brown rectangle that glowed softly like a satin pillow in the light. All I wanted was one little lick. Stealthily, my tongue drew closer and closer and closer still...

... until the elevator doors opened and the perfect scar walked out of my sight, and my life.

Smack.

Dear people,

You don't need to use 'signage' or 'signages' when 'sign' or 'signs' suffice.

Love, actually, no, seething hatred,
Shryh

Died.

Two people died in my dreams two nights ago in two unconnected incidents. The first to go was my young, balding co-worker who had a bad case of the sniffles, so his death was met by a great deal of wide-eyed disbelief. The second death was that of my aunt's, which devastated me so much that I wept with great abandon in my dream, and woke up to a salty, tear-soaked pillow.

Polish.

He droned.

As I mentally applied blush and a shimmery highlighter to those cheekbones.

Pah.

"... it's just that, uh, ah, you appear quite formal, and dare I say, cold, to others..."

Silence.

Eyebrow arch.

"And what have I done to make you think that, my good sir?"

Chomp.

You say that you have plans for me. But you assume that I won't run away with the circus before the year is out.

Choke.

I continue to hate it here.

Whooooooooooooooooooosh!

The title says it all.

A-tishoo.

I sneezed at a puppy and it went on the defensive, thinking I was about to attack it.

Poop.

The dog's equanimity as it stares back at you while it poops on the grass is equally admirable and contemptible.

Woof.

Maybe I should get a Siberian Husky.

Nah, we have enough dogs as it is. Plus, they're kind of stupid. Bred to pull sleds.

Yeah. Still, they look so alert and intelligent, you know?

(New voice) True, but pigs are very intelligent animals. And they look like...

Pigs.

Yeh.

Ting.

Pores are, like, holes on your face.

Tock.

Delay aging?

Die young.

Rrrr?

Q: I thought you said you were getting dressed?
A: I did. I put on a bra.

Mine.

It shall henceforth be declared the my favourite letter of the alphabet is 'Q', and that no-one else may claim it as their favourite... on pain of DEATH.

I mean it.

Huh.

All it takes to get a wall clock working is one AA battery and a hook on the wall. That simple! Who knew?