Separate names with a comma.
For some reason this blog thread is quite interesting.
A man living in walls...
I have been cornered by a small army of over-sized bouncing titmice. (Not the bird, just mice that greatly resemble the female proportion) There is but a lone slice of cheddar cheese in my back pocket, how cruel.
An old high school mate "friend requested" me on the facebook thinking I was an attractive female, then attempted to hit on me. Not funny, just creepy.
I haven't slept in three days. The imaginary redhead who keeps me warm at night has flown away, and my bed smells like stale cheetos.
It's raining cow and dogs, and the old men at the supermarket are being suspiciously nice. A sign of the end?!
Day 361 "Daily Horoscope - Taurus"
You’re going to die today. Your best friend, a small cuddly creature of imaginary origins, will slit your throat, then lovingly swallow your soul. Moments before, you will receive a text. The woman you love shall inform you that she is marrying that Hatian midget you despise so very dear. “He’s incredible”, she says, as your heart cracks apart even further, something you were unsure until that very second was even possible. You will have a small funeral, consisting of your parents and two nieces. In her eulogy, the thick one will say, “He was a good man, but he had an unhealthy obsession with Big Bird”, the skinny one, “He cursed at me. A lot.” You will be forgotten, an unloved, unremarkable, and honestly not quite easy-to-look-at fool that died the way he lived, "under incredibly strange circumstances".
I've been seeing a face in my demitasse. A woman- blonde hair, blue eyes, crooked teeth jutting outward from the most lackadaisical of grins. I could swear that I knew her, if I wasn't so sure that I didn't. Shot's cold.
Day Theta Sigma
About 20 grams left. Decided to take it orally, as opposed to, well, nothing, I always take it orally. I figure in exactly six minutes, I'll be on a caffeine bender. Myself, the almighty Godzilla (or ゴジラ, for you anime-pillow dry-humping purists), my neighbor's very green front yard, Tokyo. Havoc will surely ensue, the stomping of freshly planted lilacs, the epic battle against the black rottweiler I've dubbed "Jamie", who I swears growls with a Scottish accent. Passersby will stare, children will cower, and my neighbor will most likely be right pissed.
A glorious death.
Day Six-Foot Rabbit Suit
I put the entire universe into a bottle. Gazed deep inside, and ended up looking eye to eye with a micro version of myself. The little bastard flipped me off.
Day Something, February, 1783 or perhaps more likely, 2004
It was snowing when I stood behind my wife's casket, on the river bank of the Thames. We we were only just wed that day, the scent of roses which she had braided into her knee-length black hair still lingered in my every breath. It wasn't what they'd traditionally call "love", neither of us were capable of something so... grounded. Mainly because she was a prostitute.
It's not about him. Or even those responsible for his end. It's about causality. Ten years of War, of politics, media, and culture. All defined, or at least perverted, by a single entity who's influence reached far beyond just the flesh and the blood. It's not the literal death that truly matters, but its symbolic relationship to history itself. Still, I'm glad that bastard dun got his.
Day Often Unappreciated/Fictional Mother of the Day:
Fantine - Young, beautiful, optimistic - All the makings of a Parisian tragedy. An undeserved victim of love and culture, she would sacrifice her life, her very meaning, for the daughter whom circumstance mercilessly stole away. As atonement, Time penned her misery on paper, so that Fantine's spirit would never again have to walk the darkness alone.