So: the party's over.
Well, when I say 'party', I mean, 'strange psychological journey'.
When I say 'strange psychological journey', I mean 'twenty years feeling like I couldn't get out of my own front door because somebody else's tickertape parade was passing by my house'.
I have a lot of tidying up to do. Then I can get on with being an adolescent again, like before I was interrupted. Except this time, I won't need to use a Fake ID.
Result.
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5 comments:
I so wish I knew the riddle.....
*hugs*
Welcome to the world, Sarah.
I think it's not too different from your own, apart from the penis, and the lawnmower.
(((((RightBackAtYa)))))
Excuse me.
<-- mows the lawn here and dang proud of it!
That's WHEN one can find the lawn....when it ain't covered in all that whitestuff...
mmmmmmm
whitestuff....
I mean, I grew up in England, where the lawnmowers are much smaller.
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