Yesterday, the noise I made as I wandered through the office was the slappy noise of my slitted leather skirt against itself. Today it's the rustle of crinoline.
When I grow up, I will choose a style. I don't think it's going to be soon.
Persons Unknown had a character in a really nice shirt dress yesterday, and although I don't have one that slamming, I couldn't help myself busting out my 50s equivalent. And I really want to go ebay shopping.
I love how the African teams are holding their own this first round, even if it is screwing with my pool.
My skirt is static-clinging to my legs and to myself, and I have no lotion to fix it with. Bah.
Someone in the office must have lotion, no?
The World Cup is conspiring against me. How can I go to work when the Cote d'Ivoire has just put Drogba in?
I wonder how badly Brazil is going to defeat North Korea.
eBay has the most amazing pink gingham dress not in my size. Woe.
I wonder how badly Brazil is going to defeat North Korea.
Hopefully bad enough to erase Germany-Australia from the public consciousness. Poor socceroos.