Drunnk now. And still sad and pissed. I should not type like this. However....
I take it this is another one of those liquers thae t tastes like licorice.
Chartruse does not taste like licorice. It tastes like grass clippings that sat in a garbage bag in the sun for waaay too long. Like Grass gone bad. It's made by monks who don't talk to each other.
On a stool you say? Well, then that's
sooper
safe.
I should not type like this. However....
it amuses us?
On a stool you say? Well, then that's sooper safe.
It was far from the tub. Pinky swear! There was no glass and no electronics that could go aswimming. I am a careful sort of girl.
I need to go to the Russian Baths and get scrubbed. Without a computer.
I want a Mosha scrub!
So, popquiz... Send or not send?
I'm swearing off boys forevah.
I can do that, right?
Shall do.
My chest hurts like whoa after the lymphatic massage bits. Tomorrow is gonna be even more brutal. It's a good hurt ultimately but Like. Whoa.
I can do that, right?
Technically or realistically?