shoesonwrong

Zombie? That’s just me with one of my quarterly bouts of pink eye. Zombie?

I hate you.

That is some quality writing right there. Television, paranoia, addiction issues, television, movie stars, and Google Wave.

Daddy horny, Michael.

Still my favorite picture of that dumb little furball. He’s all, I can smell feet but I don’t SEE feet.

Momo!

(Quick question: I think I bought him in some sort of poly-cotton blend that stretched out. How do I get him back to this size?)

(No, seriously. I want to make him small again.)

It’s true. The Dark Lord and I were never closer than that one time I got roped into playing D&D.

danielsh:

Have you added the green things yet? WHAT ABOUT THE RED THINGS?

I’ve said it before and I will say it again: Daniel, will you marry me? I am just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to live happily ever after together with a set of prep bowls.

I think he’s trying to smile.

Also, Momo has this annoying quality to him — he’s like a friend that is quite a few sizes larger than you, but somehow always manages to seem just about your size in photographs. (As the larger friend in most situations, I regret I have no such talent.) Wicket is less than half the girth of Momo, yet Momo always looks approximately the same size in photographs, leaving poor Wicket wondering if he really is the same size as Momo. Is his butt actually that big?

redcloud:

Anton Chekhov (1860-1904)

Oh, Anton Chekhov, I’m so sorry we didn’t have a chance to meet. Then you could see how badly I handle crises.

See, why I couldn’t find him? It’s Where’s Wicket? Find the cat in the striped sweater!