ps: i still have not received tickets to a perfect circle. just in case someone out there was planning on sending them along, but thought "no.. dear raspberry must have hundreds by now.. i'll just give these ones to another cute blonde". sad as it is.. i remain bereft.
i do realize that the 'ps' usually comes at the end. hence the name post script. i just thought that i'd point it out early, in case what i have to say is dull. wouldn't want to lose any readers before i made it to the important public service announcement.
exerpted from maktaaq's comments:
"Raspberry, I have always been rather curious. What is "trouble" exactly? And how does one go about "getting in trouble"?
- Maktaaq
and my response:
"hmm well trouble can be any number of things. sometimes it's drinking martinis and smooching with girls in restaurants, much to the delight of the couple at the table beside you. sometimes it's introducing strangers to each other with incorrect names and fanciful stories (a la bridget jones: "frank, this is juliet. she enjoys stock car racing and making fancy pastries. juliet, this is frank. he enjoys bondage films and growing tulips". sometimes it's just starting snowball fights and enticing people into *not* doing what they should be doing, but acting like kids instead... depends on my mood at the time, i guess."
interesting concept, getting into trouble. tonight i'm torn by my desire to get into trouble, my dread of doing it in front of work people, and my overwhelming urge to stay home in my jammies and read mystery novels. but the n's should be out.. and going out with bun is usually tonnes of fun, and i believe even young maktaaq is joining us for an evening on the town. so i shall quit my whinging, don my new pink arm warmers (take that moxee's new shoes!) and get off my potty.
Put your towels on. It’s Christmas Eve.
Il y a 5 heures
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