Hello, devoted following. It’s been much too long, hasn’t it.
Nothing amusing in the slightest has happened for quite some time, or maybe I’ve just repressed it. Biskie and I are Making our Own Adventure tomorrow, much to our parents’ disgruntlement and our amusement. We have to leave now, before we kill them. I go back to school in four weeks, and I can prly last just about that long.
I shall attempt to keep the blood to a minimum.
Pookie pie should be coming home very soon. It’s off at its spawning grounds, having something done to its dust-ridden innards. I think PookieII will happen before my next birthday. Daddydear said having the current Pookie struck by lightning would be the best possible thing that could happen to me, because then the insurance men would buy me a nice shiny new one. I think he misses the point. That’s like telling a mother whose spoiled and much-petted only child has just been hit by a cement truck, "Don’t worry, dear, you can have another."
It’s his fault anyway for buying me one with a temperament worse than my own. I think Pookie and I have bratting contests like small children have staring contests. Go on and freeze, spawn, I’ll boot you back up until you emit smoke or my finger falls off.
Dad lights my ever-shortening fuse too often lately. Today I had to drag 240 pounds of topsoil out of the Bitchmobile’s trunk (I needed somewhere to stow the corpse), and I sure as hell did not leave it there. For all he tells me that car has too many miles on it for me to go anywhere, he takes it every time he wants to go any further than down the block. I’m going to slash the Bitchwagon’s tires so at least he’ll have a reason to steal mine.
I might be hungry.
Sometimes I can’t tell.
I have to take li’l Sailorendor and her shrill friend Sailor…um…uh, Jenni, to a Pokemon convention next weekend. I predict I’ll be chewing Excedrin like breath mints. There’s supposed to be a seven-foot Pikachu wandering around. The Grand-Splutmomma could not be whined into escorting them, and her Evil Consort hasn’t the patience, so they bribed me with a fifty. What can I say. I am easily bought.
That is one anime I just do not comprehend. Actually, many of them confuse/frighten or do nothing for me. I like shoujo anime, but that’s understandable considering I am a little girl, after all.
Maybe there will be Sailormoon toys.
Li’l snotnose wants her Pookie soon. We’ll all be glad when mine comes home.
If we don’t make it back from our daytripping, I want to be cremated with Pookie. Any leftover pookieparts should be buried at sea, like all the pets.
Behave yourselves in my absence. Sailorkitty says.