In the spirit of broken, I'm mending.
Repairs must be made, or else.
Pour a little glass of wine.
Turn off the computer.
Turn on the music. Tonight: Pink Martini, Sympathique.
My best linens are scorched.
My best dishes are cracked.
I can(not) fix everything.
8 comments:
Bring it to me, I'll fix it!
Word Verifier: The Gathering
On now.
Only in the Hideout
Why? Because work sucks.
My best linens are scorched??
I love that
Now, I am worried about you.
Or, perhaps, you can fix yourself. If your little birdcage in your soul needs mending.
Not to put to fine a point on it.
Say Madge is the only bee in my bonnett.
Damn They Might Be Giants. DAMN THEM.
fritzie, you rock. a *hug* for madge, to aid in fixing and repair. *pours her another glass of wine*
sometimes being by yourself makes everything ok. doing nothing with a glass of wine.
Works sucks, though...
Calzone, I'm turning very 1934. Watch out!
I think the linens were scorched from the iron. The hot, hot iron.
Girls, you get me. Wine, hugs, music, loves. You just knew that was exactly what I needed. That is our secret language.
If you keep a green bough in your heart, the singing bird will come.
Now, THIS is a sign that you have to get back to your blog.
Seriously, Madge. We need you.
where are you? don't leeeeeave me! noooo!!
---MB
rtppbad- the sound and resulting thought when one squats down in tight jeans that suddenly rip up the ass.
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