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Tonight is a good drinking night, who's with me? There isn't anything that can't be fixed with a drink or two and no, Portia, I don't want to talk about it.

Here's a few tips that Kate shared with me (and a few I looked up).

If your dreams are leaving you with red scars, get yourself a green tinted concealer and then another good, creamy concealer that's a shade lighter than your skin tone, and a matte (nothing with shimmer or glitter in it) powder to set it. Apply the green first, let it SET, then apply the creamy concealer on top. Feather the edges of the concealer out until the edges aren't noticeable. Set with the powder.

If your dreams are leaving you with lighter colored scars, skip step one and apply a concealer that's one shade darker than your skin tone, feather, and set.

If your dreams are leaving you with bruising, pick out a salmon colored concealer or a sheer, orange colored lipstick instead of the green, and repeat the rest of the instructions.

(OOC Note: Likely triggers for mentions of torture and other dark things in the comments. Nothing in detail, though.)

I don't know who I'd say my best friend is here (as I'm not the sort of person to give people titles unless we have a legal reason to do so), but I'm really glad that they're not a Vicodin addicted asshole that I'm forced to rat out to a detective. Then I just feel guilty. Well. More guilty than usual.

Stupid dreams, I feel all weird and punch drunk after I have them, even though they're not that different from my daily life. Just more drama because of said asshole.

So that is what these dreams are? They're magnificent.

Dumb question. Anyone ever feel like they're dreaming of two sides of the same story? Because I'm gettin' real fuckin' confused.

Feeling the urge to stab people has only increased.

Coolio has his own cooking book.

I don't have anything funny to say here. I can't even think of a Fantastic Voyage pun. It's just kinda ... sad. And scary.

I'm not a super romantic girl, but I must say this: I will marry and bear about five thousand children to the man that takes me to this event:

( Cut for image, open to all. )

What's more romantic than that? It's allegedly in North Carolina, and I have no idea where that is. Someone's going to have to start driving. I'll pay for petrol.