I am bored.
As you can tell form my title wrought with wit and irony, I'm sure.
Anymehways, there is nothing to do today. Was at a party last night and got a bunch of annoying a** crank calls that weirded me out. It only seems Me, my dad, and the two guys I was with who had phones got them. That really pissed me off. But yay, I have some new pics of myself. Brodie still needs to send the rest, but I have two. ^^
On that second one... just don't ask...
It was kick a**. Brodie has a skillit, so we don't need to worry about pizza as much. We just make bacon and eggs lol. ^^ It's pretty good, but we're not sure how long the bacon has been in his freezer >.>
Not much else to say... so I'll leave you with a new poem. ^^ Comments and critiques are nice.
My Living Dead Girl
The siren commands me to my final duty
The sweetest of tragedies poised to unfurl
when I bowed to the whim of an infernal beauty
invited to tea with the living dead girl.
Curled on your pallet deep in the barrow
Lit by the glow of a funeral pyre
You dine on the relics, the bone and the marrow
and absinthe laced with razor wire
Though I know your purpose, in truth I don't care
so I drift to your parlour where doom is enshrined
and you permit me to bury my face in your hair
In pleasure, in torment, in witchcraft entwined.
You belle dame sans merci, repose at your leisure
Though I strain at my leashes, my chances are slim
and I know that you'd take the greatest of pleasure
in watching my carcass torn limb from limb.
