the textual siege.

so, can anyone here say for sure what were they doing exactly at the stroke of midnight? no?

well i can.

11.57 - scrub hair with shampoo. make sure it feels squeaky clean. apply conditioner.

11.59 - exfoliate self with unnatural vigor while allowing conditioner to soak in.

12.00 - hear retarded people shout 'happy new year!' one after another. those are probably the same people who are only let out from the storeroom once a year because their families are ashamed of them. well maybe. just maybe. it's plausible dont you think?

12.10 - mop off stray rivulets of water, grow sullen at the reminder of the dire need to install bookshelves in room.

after that, i went into this mini organising dervish with books and magazines. the aftermath is a stack of really old issues of vogue and elle and some other random riff raff strewn around the floor. let's hope i dont slip and fall on because i dont see backbraces being really hot for spring/summer.

so for those of you who didn't get the memo that being squeaky clean is in and being shoulder to shoulder with some stranger at some club that ripped you off for cover is just so out, well haha to you all uncool peeps.

ok i really need to sleep now. but not before i go on ebay. ta!