im bored! and lonely! and i miss you all so much!
im sitting here with face masque on, face masque! and ive been hanging out with my stoner cousin everyday. save me! save me!

sigh.

speaking of stoners though, i wrote this...whatever it is...

One unseasonably cold september afternoon, Barbara L. Camden was going through her expensive sweater collection when she noticed something quite peculiar upon her white cashmere Nicole Miller cardigan. It was a red dot. She gasped and jumped back in disbelief.

"Holy Fucking shit dear Martha! there is a obscenly bold crimson dot upon my favorite Nicole Miller number!"

Martha dropped her crumpet in exasperation. Long after the tiny ping of the crumpet hitting the tea cup had faded, she exclaimed, "oh good lord! how could such a simply preposturous thing end up on that gorgeous sweater?"

Martha stood and the two of them planted themselves in front of the closet gaping at the sweater cluthched tightly in barbara's shaking hands. Barbara took a deep intake of breath. "You know what this means right?' She loooked at Martha and theirt eyes locked. Martha knodded somlemly.

"It is time..." said barbara

the day of reckoning had come.

what have i become?

i need you people!