Went shopping with
votania, for groceries.
Wound up with STUFF. Had checked balance of card, and was therefore able to be affording stuffs.
Tired.
The Dew is God. 'Specially their new orange shit. I get, and I store in fucking closet, I am so serious.
Cheeeeeeeesecake.
I've missed shopping with Votania. She offered to marry me. Told her that she'd already said she would. We just have to convince the groom to cooperate.
This is a little slice of forever. I've gotta love it while it lasts.
Picking out corn. Sweet, white corn. Yellow means overripe. Pick 'em long and fat, like cocks.
Got fish for her. She needs it. Checked catfood prices. Giggled about Darkside. I'm still this giggly over him, even though he doesn't want to marry me and have my children. 'Cause I love him. And he cares about me. That's enough.
Started out with a headache. "Is a migraine the one that feels like an ice pick through your forehead?" I inquired casually, hand clapped to forehead, trying not to double over, looking at the world through my non-dominant eye as my dominant eye had kinda gone out.
"Yeah,"
votania said.
"Well, that's what I have, then," I said cheerily, and we continued shopping.
Then my feet, the bottoms of my feet, started to itch. Evil! Evil! The headache went away. We picked out our ice-cream, looked for milk, cat food, and ketchup. We found pie. We replaced pie with cheesecake after some debate.
It's just such a beautiful, wonderful, delightful, creamy, star-studded evening.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Wound up with STUFF. Had checked balance of card, and was therefore able to be affording stuffs.
Tired.
The Dew is God. 'Specially their new orange shit. I get, and I store in fucking closet, I am so serious.
Cheeeeeeeesecake.
I've missed shopping with Votania. She offered to marry me. Told her that she'd already said she would. We just have to convince the groom to cooperate.
This is a little slice of forever. I've gotta love it while it lasts.
Picking out corn. Sweet, white corn. Yellow means overripe. Pick 'em long and fat, like cocks.
Got fish for her. She needs it. Checked catfood prices. Giggled about Darkside. I'm still this giggly over him, even though he doesn't want to marry me and have my children. 'Cause I love him. And he cares about me. That's enough.
Started out with a headache. "Is a migraine the one that feels like an ice pick through your forehead?" I inquired casually, hand clapped to forehead, trying not to double over, looking at the world through my non-dominant eye as my dominant eye had kinda gone out.
"Yeah,"
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
"Well, that's what I have, then," I said cheerily, and we continued shopping.
Then my feet, the bottoms of my feet, started to itch. Evil! Evil! The headache went away. We picked out our ice-cream, looked for milk, cat food, and ketchup. We found pie. We replaced pie with cheesecake after some debate.
It's just such a beautiful, wonderful, delightful, creamy, star-studded evening.