Dec. 30th, 2006

psalm_onethirtyone: (When Are We Going to GET SOMEWHERE?)
These may be my last few hours on earth. >_>

Uncle Joi gave Waen harfiskur for Christmas--vast quantities of harfiskur, even--and it smells passionately, with a vast and smelly smellingness that is enveloping the entire house in its smelly embrace. Truly, if smelliness were a romance novel hero, our house would currently be entwined in its arms and CENSORED in its sexing. In fact, our house would be laid.

If smelliness were, I don't know, an X-man, it would be the one that says HA HA I'M THE HARFISKUR BITCH and then proceeds to barge through walls assaulting people. If smelliness were, and I know this is taking it a bit far, an actor, it would be Mel Gibson--no looks or acting ability to speak of, but able thoroughly to smash the life out of everything. There's also a chance it'd be Keanu Reeves attempting to exorcise the devil and mostly just getting a lot of foul-smelling smoke and sulfur. The long and short of it is that there is harfiskur, Waen has been eating it, and that it is taking over our domicile slowly but surely and eradicating all life.

...

...I need to get out of the house.

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Soujin

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