Oh my little Bloggers

I'm sorry, Bloggernauts! I have neglected you so much these past few months. Let's prepare for a new year by spending all our money, gorging on meat and inebriating liqours, mercilessly crying out as one on this our most pagan of holidays. Thankyou Jesus for this opportunity to piss in your cradle all in your honour. We're so glad you were born in winter, it makes the whiskey taste better.

I think a few hot toddys and plenty of those slightly dry spiced cakes (that always fill up the Food and Wine stores with their scent) and we'll be ok. I know I am. Breakfast started with curry and ended with whiskey and pastries. Yum. Butter loved winter and birthed whatever I am eating, so lightly bound is the pastry I wonder if the chef put any flour in his dough... sure does taste good though.

I want to know what everyone gets for Christmas, I'll be expecting a chain phone-call party in the morning!

I had to consult Wikipedia to remind myself what date Christmas actually is..

I'd like to live before I die

So let me abuse you. You're weak and repulsive, your fear is pungent and you know no bounds. You can't hear the echo of sounds in your static sepulchre, you're vulgar. Even unclean you stay pristine in me, your memories weep, cleanliness seeps. And I'm sick of the white noise. I'm sick of the high tide. Stick the the shoreline before the ocean becomes a rhythm that rhymes and our rhymes collide, sending the butterflies flying to skies we can't reach in time.
We're fated. We're fucked up and jaded. We need more coke.
We've lost all hope.

Sometimes, things unglue themselves without our help..

I know you've all been waiting with bated (or is that baited) breath to hear about the piss-dribble that is my latest update. Glass of wine in hand, I will attempt to decant the weeks gone by slowly so as not to startle small animals.
Hmm. Well now, there was the pedestal sub. A nice enough Dr.Moore with obviously more money than sense and the lingering signs of a healthy junk habit from years past. Of course this needs to be delicately handled - I have an immense duty to my boyfriend's emotions (and not many women will actually say that) and to my own as well. How many thirty somethings befriend pubescant girls with the pretext of a totally platonic friendship? I'm dubious, but I'd like some free shoes so if anyone wants to come with me? I don't much feel like dealing with any more crazies tbh. I'm sure like every other man that has a will weak enough to be crushed by my mind games, he's going to become totally infactuated and end up collecting my hair and used tissues. On the other hand, I could definately batter him in a fight. I might be ok :D and I could always bring a can of mace!

With autumn swept swiftly under a carpet of ever-deadening leaves, rain pours in something unmerciful. The temperature has not just dropped, it's bleedin' disappeared down a mineshaft. That said, I never remember to turn on the heating... Anywho...
Tis the season to be baking. I'm going to be visiting with brownies and cupcakes and cookies! Maybe soup making... embroidery... book writing... Gentle winter projects? Card-making?

I hope that I'm allowed to make Christmas dinner...

Mmhmm.