Death comes for us all (a melodramatic haiku of retirement)
Alas! this blog is
no longer where it is at.
Onwards! (Back to home.)



guts and garters

It's all fun and games until someone loses molecular cohesion.

Saturday, June 01, 2002

Tonight, as part of my retail therapy for having handed in an essay today, I found a skirt so mind-bogglingly short, that even when resting so low on my hips it was barely within cooee of my waist, it was still anime-indecent around the posterior.

I did not buy it, but did giggle a great deal.

I did, however, buy an entire skincare beauty regime thing. I feel sullied, and girly. I have moisturiser. I have fucking toner.

I also have half-black hair. The back half, mostly. Long bits in front have remained 'natural'. Will eventually get redded. Probably. Maybe. My hair is a constantly changing evolution towards perfection. Or at least, I like to think so. If Charles Darwin had been a hairdresser, he'd know how I feel.

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