Why didn't the doctor put me on antibiotics anyway?

Hugs needed for the Hug Monster.

ETA: Went to horsepital, saw doctor. Doctor was good (and British, he proclaimed he didn't like Little Britain), gave me prescriptions. That man is a genius.

Boss let me have a day off.

All is well.

If you had cared to notice, I've been away from NG for the last few days. Not by choice, but because I was able to log in, but not be able to post, answer PMs, write in the blog, or do basically anything. This aggravated me greatly.

So it took me at LEAST three days to figure out that IE is getting the boot, and FF has come back onto my computer.

So bienvenue, Firefox. :)

And I'm blonde now.

Her blonde hair was plastered to her face. I hovered over her, a playful smile on my lips. I ran my hand over her creamy skin, all the while gazing at her delicately-closed eyes, her mouth slightly open, seducing me.

I ran my hand down her neck, my fingers tracing down where her carotid pumps valuable blood into her brain, along the gentle line of her jaw. I got to her shirt--a slightly tattered windbreaker, and played with the zipper, waiting for the moment.

I slowly unzipped her, freeing her skin from the bonds of cloth. Her nipples were taut, I knew they were aching to be touched, her breasts underneath my gentle, warm palm. I looked over her, examining her exposed tummy, her navel an empty pool.

I was supposed to save her, breathe live into her. Instead of leaning down to kiss her, I had to put a pocket mask over her mouth, giving her my breath of life in exchange to see her beautiful peach-toned chest rise and fall.

Failing to prompt her own breathing, I placed my hands over her left breast, the heel of my hand placed above her sternum. Her still-erect nipple was underneath my ring finger of my right hand, and as I began compressing her chest to give her CPR, I felt her soft chest fall and be crushed underneath the force I exerted on her.

All was lost, I couldn't revive her. I zipped up her windbreaker, and awaited further instruction.

Poor Anne. I tried so hard.

Had a weird dream I kept thinking back to.

Involved, I think, school chums and I in this big lecture hall that was outdoors. Something happened there, but we went back to my house, where there were maids and everything.

Years go by, and I come back to my house. Apparently, I hadn't been around a lot. I went to the hallway closet that my mum converted to a desk area (it is real, not made up), and I was fixing something on the clothespole that my mum left up there (I was condensing a piston (or was it called a piston, well, whatever) like I was reapplying new front brake pads for a car... I think I'm getting too muddled up with my job shadow...), but anyways. One of the maids (who was a kindly black woman), had aged, but she was basically the only person in my house. I looked all around, trying to find someone--my parents, my brothers, just a familiar face.

No one remained, but dust had settled in a light film everywhere.

Makes me think that there will be a point where my house (my grandparents built it, my mum grew up in it, and so did me and my brothers) won't be more than splinters of wood and pebbles of concrete in the dirt.

Bah.

I hate my dreams.

Quick Note: Going to be the proud owner of this in a couple of weeks. My childhood has been redeemed. The whole series plus all the movies.
*lesigh*

Hey guys!

Because I'm so totally into the Olympics, man, especially for Vancouver! We have the space, the money, the resources, the manpower, the arenas, and everything's totally under budget! Everyone who's homeless has a home, and there are definitely no traffic problems!

In fact, I'm going to give you guys a chance to guess (without further looking!) a chance to figure out what the mascots are, and how they represent BC and our culture!

Have fun, and remember: Sam Sullivan is not a douchebag in a wheelchair, and the Olympics are definitely not a waste of money that can be better used!

...

One-- the thought that I was a perfectionist/had a lot of patience was false. I tried doing machining this week, and I can not stand having to be so perfect, and that standing around waiting for a machine to do shit for me was boring as hell.

Two-- mango margaritas are beyond awesome, and combine my love of mango juice with my love of tequila.

Three-- lots of anger at school within my class, it seems. Wow. JUST LIKE HIGH SCHOOL. :D

Four-- I can draw sex, and men who look like men. YAY. Not like that picture will be up here for a while, methinks. >_> <_<

Five-- Sailor Moon is still cool.

Six-- The more I exert myself walking up a hill to the bus stop (a daily occurance, it seems), my ankle hurts regardless of my shoes. I should check it out.

Seven-- I discovered how awesome Casablanca is, although I don't remember the ending of it.

Eight-- If I stop looking for things, or casually go "hmm, maybe it's in here", that I'll find it with no problem. Damn you, Stephen King/Iain Banks books. Always hiding on me, I'll find you.

Nine-- That we were able to play FM radio at work. I have not discovered how to accomplish this amazing feat. WOO, CBC Radio One.

Ten-- That Christmas is coming way too fast.

What if I say I'm not like the others? What if I say that I'm not just another one of your plays? You're the pretender, what if I say I will never surrender.

And whenever I try to plan something, someone always comes along and i can't do it. Like, you know, listen to my MP3 player on my way home from work, and find people have come to pick me up, so I don't get to. Or like, other things, like having people over, so I can't shower because I hate having strangers over when I try to do stuff.

I'd have more facts, but I'm starting to sober up, and I don't need to be up early. Hm.

MOAR MARGARITA!

Best webcomic efvar. :D

This is dedicated to Monocrom, that wily bugger who wanted to see my man nude and with scat.

HERE YA GO!

I've been on a roll with the almost nsfw/nsfw art. Dun ask me why.

Maybe it'll be a picture of a guy with a huge dong next time. IN YO' FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE.

<3

Anyways, yeah.

She's curvy.

Mrow.

GREEN.Uberbarista's version (and the original drawing) are swell as well.

Uberbarista and I were bored one night, so I was asked to sketch a drawing, and he'd colour it.

MASTERPIECE, MON AMIS!

*kisses the tips of my fingers*

Here's a before and after of it. :)