The eternal question returns. What is a bulwark?
I am well aware that you pride yourself on presents. You called me, when I was in a lesson at college, simply to mention that fact! I'm glad, truly. You clearly make up for my present buying deficiency.
Who doesn't love bread? That's what I want to know... It's so tasty, especially the seeded kind. Although I do feel like a sparrow when I eat seeds, don't know why exactly, just happens. Could be worse I guess... I could feel like a pigeon or a hen... but then why can't I feel like a Kingfisher or a Raven? It's just a sparrow. *sigh* such is life I guess.
Your "vitamins"? How very delicate of you. I'm on pills that are meant to tame my hormones, and you get dainty "vitamins". Yes, that's about right. I have quite a smooth face at the moment, no dry skin whatsoever, other than my knees...but name me one person who has soft knees? It just doesn't happen. It's all that kneeling at your feet, darn it all.
You sound like you have a very busy Christmas planned. My personal plans are getting fat and then a good self-loathing which will beat me into running around the block a few hundred times, topped off with gift giving and good ol' Christmas lovin' and cheer. Sound good? I think so Snaffs.
About your weekend with Ieu, wow! It sounds like you two has brilliant fun and I am very jealous of him that he got to spend so much time with you. I wish I could say that I understand how you're feeling about missing him...but I'm afraid it doesn't compute into my emotional "range". The only man I have ever missed a lot is dad, and I live with him, so you can understand the deficit. But I do miss you. It's a void in my life, a great chasm of missingyouness. (Poetic, no?)
I tried reading in all in a Scottish accent…but now I have a headache...so maybe I'll stick with quoting Monarch of the Glen, "Molly MacDonald: Listen, mush! I can boogie with the best, dance 'til dawn and drink 'til doomsday! So don't give me this old routine! Or I shall give you an injury from which you may never recover!" I know she's not actually Scottish...but the show is.
As you may know I am in the process of applying to places far and wide to "educate" me better in the ways of photography and design. I am fed up and quite in the mood to run away to Ireland to work as a bar-maid and learn how to play the tin-whistle in my free time. What thinkest thou? On a more serious note...I don't even know if I want to go. Gosh, why can't I just get married and have children. Being a mother is the only thing I'm sure that I want to do...no matter how much children annoy me. My children will be different; they will annoy other people, but not myself. Can't you just stow me away with you?
So, I was on the bus the day of our dysfunctional phone call (rubbish signal, etc), and I would like to take time to mention the wonderful OAPs. I nearly drowned in the sea of old people on the lower deck of the bus, they just didn't stop coming. The woman who sat next to me was very comfortable with reading my texts to you over my shoulder and in random moments of loneliness, usually in three minute increments, she would be overcome with the urge to snuggle up and dare I say it, lean. The woman was "leaning" on me! Hugging is polite, is just arms. Leaning is a whole different ball game, it's a body on a slight incline towards an unsuspecting victim. I was the victim. Dude.
Like you, I am in unhappy spirits and pretty wiped out, so apologies for the lack of humour. We should do something to cheer each other... *tumbleweed* .... I'll let you know.
Pah! Sam just came in with a delighted smile on his face waving a massive stick saying, "I just called everyone to repentance!!". What a strange hobby...I suppose someone has to do it.
Alas dearest Fruity McSquizzy McBean, I have to go, we have family over and no matter how much I try to justify my reasons for staying on here and talking about voids and bulwarks, I'm being rude. Now I have to repent of my rudeness because I have been called to repentance by a small orange child waving sticks. You don't mess with that kind of sign man. Bad karma. I love you dearie,
Love Jess McFruit.
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