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Another entry for the "things that shouldn't exist but for some reason I want to buy them all" files: action figures featuring American presidents as classic horror movie monsters.

I want to put them all on my desk. And then never get laid again. ... it'd almost be worth it.

Why the fuck do men think it's okay to harass women and cat-call to them out on the street? Do they think that's actually going to work? No I don't fucking want to touch you, or talk to you when you treat me like that. I surely don't fucking want to go out with you on Valentine's Day. What the fuck man?

No woman likes to be cat-called like y'know.. she's a fucking cat. Cut that shit out. Someone's going to get punched in the balls.

I think I'm still a little hung over from the other day. What a strange thing. Perhaps I am a light-weight?



On the plus side, I haven't had that dream again.

I want to do something fun!

Who wants to do something fun with me?

I dreamed about crazy aliens that no one could remember when they weren't looking at them. And I met President Nixon. It was... interesting.

And then one day? You look up and realize you actually are an adult.

I'm sorry everyone. I'm not a kid any longer. I have to do things like paperwork, and taxes and eating salad for lunch from now on.

Because I finally realized that it was a good idea to change the toilet paper roll when it's empty.

Terribly exciting things about lately, aren't there?

Anyone planning to go wine tasting this weekend? Take this as a purely non-romantic invitation to help pour me back into the towncar. I'll spring for the bottle and everything.

I don't get the wine thing. I mean yes, I understand the fermenting of grapes create wine and everything, and I will drink it (because, as is always brought up among my numerous character flaws, I am a near-alcoholic) but a wine walk?

I mean, you walk, you drink wine.

Isn't that just Friday nights at a New England college anyway?

So, we found Michiru. Or rather a few "superheroes" and the Police did. She's not doing perfectly, but doing better now that she is in the hospital. Send all get well gifts to [address and hospital room number]. There are guards on her room and only select few are allowed to visit her as of yet.


I would also like to apologise to any I offended yesterday. I was impatient and wrong to call my frustration on them into a public venue. They protect the city and deserve better. I am deeply sorry.

Okay, seriously, just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean that I should start doing Zumba and "be respectable". Stupid nosy Target cashier lady! Good luck getting all that glitter off of aisle three, you stupid.

... I don't know what Zumba is, but it sounds like a cult. Or a flesh eating virus.

All this talk about ghosts and I go and dream about one. Turns out the house George and I moved in to, in my dream, was haunted. She wasn't like the ghosts you see in all the films though. She was solid; or at least she was to George and I. Turns out, she was the fiance of our land lord who had died. Not gonna lie, she was cute. Really cute. She enjoyed making tea as well. There were cups or tea and coffee all over the house, because she constantly made it even though she couldn't drink it. It seemed like the three of us got on really well.

After dreaming about having two flatmates, my own house is feeling even bigger and emptier than it was before.

To everyone who's seen ghosts:

If you see her again, the little girl, try being nice to her. She's scared and lost.

I came home this evening to find my kitchen chairs had all been stacked up on the table in a way that shouldn't be possible. However, when I actually set foot in the kitchen they all toppled over. It was quite surreal. I don't see myself getting much sleep tonight.