SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

Profile - Archive�- RSS
Guestbook - Email - Diaryland

Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Monday, Apr. 21, 2003 @ 12:13 am
Exhausted



The Easter toast/grace this year was to the hockey team. Obviously Easter has completely lost meaning in our family.

And then my sister blew out her birthday candles in one breath - every single one - and the jokes about her blowing skills lasted a good five minutes. That is so wrong, so very very wrong.

My cousin works at the video store, so naturally the conversation drifted to the Blue Room of his store. So that added up to two full-length dirty conversations.

Then the joke telling starts. Bad war jokes. One about how sons were captured and the need to bag dad. One about how Miss Muffet and Saddam and kurds in their way. That's right about when I downed the vile asparagus.

I've nearly finished moving out. I get to sleep on the floor tonight. My computer right now is on a counter and I'm sitting on a chest of drawers. And I'm completely exhausted. Tomorrow is the last time I will ever feed these sheep.


Roots | Shoots