Guavidad approaches
In the midst of 1928 House, I'd completely forgotten about Guavidad 1978. You know, my calendar should really not involve a centenarian timeline, just saying. Anyhow, time is running out and I have nothing finished and we have now reached panic mode, Selma. Also, the evility of FB has shown itself with me being tracked down already with the "OMG!!! We should totally get together!!11!!" bullshittedness I have sought to avoid. That'll learn me. Did you know if you put a book on hold with the library and neglect to pick it up, they charge you for it? I didn't know that either. I learned it after $18 though. Don't look at me like that, I read too much to buy every book, I'd have to have a house made of books with furniture made of books and a book-lined floor to store it all. I can't go online for everything, there are too many things to distract me, like zombie lesbian sea monkeys.
Oh, right, back to the holiday armadillo stuff.
Oh, right, back to the holiday armadillo stuff.
Labels: Whining
posted by CMURB at 3:38 PM
2 Comments:
In my typical fashion... I got those Guavidad goodies.. and I put them... um... I put them... you know, they're here somewhere. And thus begins the hunt for Red Octoberuavidad!
I know, I know, I have, like, one staring me in the face and some other stuff, like, around. Somewhere. Maybe.
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