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It astounds me how quickly I can let my surroundings degenerate into complete chaos. A week ago, my apartment was fairly clean, and now it's FUCKED. There's shit everywhere! I have just never got the hang of putting things back where I find them, regardless of all the instruction I got from my mother when I was young. I'm just determined to take after my father, I guess. Fucked-up living quarters in '02, yo.

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Crash cleaning in e-motherfuckin-fect, boyeee.

Some girl just made a post to the wafflehouse community trying to sell her various . . . hell, I don't even know what to call them. Things to plug into your piercings? Maybe she works at Waffle House or something.

(no subject)

lunchboxface rules for many reasons, not the least of which is telling me about LiveJournal's premiere poetry practitioners, The A-Team of Haiku Bastards (athb).