Your Pitiful.

Your dose of random today.

When I grow up and have kids, I’d tell them that the freckles on their faces are angel kisses.
When they grow smart and ask me dubiously where did my facial moles come from?
I’d tell them the angels just kissed me harder.

And then they would grow up with a different set of trauma then I did.
But that would be okay.
Because I still wouldn’t have made the mistakes my parents did.



School is driving us all mass commers hard. The brakes were broken once we came close to finishing half of polytechnic. Now there’s nothing to do but to go faster and faster, drive harder and harder.

Or crash and burn, as it were.

What a pretty way of describing an uglyfunny situation, no?

Don't worry me luvvies, us lumberjacks will bugger back to adorin' each one and another again. savvy?