
wiki.dumper
- friedrich nietzsche
magmozine
a.guy.site
bad.chinese.mama
jejune.net
a.cause.des.garcons
spit.on.a.stranger
sluggernaut
honeyee
zefrank
born.a.waterhead
diane.pernet
tribe.net
gallery.of.the.absurd
world.community.grid
smarty.pants
bradford.shellhammer
wonder.boy
julie.fredrickson
fashionologie

the description for pushing daisies is "...blend romance, crime procedural and high-concept fantasy to create a fairytale in the spirit of Amelie, Stranger than Fiction, and Chocolat." i adore amelie and chocolat, but am partial to stranger than fiction, though i would appreciate the concept and i see it as a potential sleeper hit. women's murder club sounds exciting, but it sounded like it has the potential to fall off the radar, we'll see how it performs in the rating. the lineup this year is really promising. it would be depressing if the good ones are taken off air. like they did with twenty good years, they should have let that show develop a little bit more character-wise. i mean, for crying out loud, if a dismal show like yes, dear could last more than a season, i don't understand why they won't give other really good show a little more time to settle in.
anyway, i'm waiting for sexy dirty money to air. peter krause is in the cast, so they better not fuck it up.
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i'm frightened of being inside a submarine. no one can hear you scream if you die. and the terrible fate of having fish of the deep ravaging your body if it escapes out of the ship. terrible fate indeed.
generally, i have been plagued by negative thoughts. i need to uplift my spirit. i need to taunt a dying hamster, spew obscenities at anorexic girls, win in a chess battle with an amputee, and possibly discover a new species of bird. and i need to accomplish all these quick, since my serotonin is depleting at a rapid rate.
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i have a tendency to undermine my own authority. it is as though a metaphysical twin that resides within this lumpy vessel is always plotting against my success. i have successfully accomplished the induction phase of atkins and am very pleased by theresult, but i fear, that sabotaging-cunt inside of me have succeeded yet again. i've ravaged processed, sugary food like a polar bear is fattening itself for hibernation. the (metaphysical) saboteur must be stopped.
there are days that i felt like throwing muffins at myself until i learn to respect my own authority - or dunking myself in a fish tank and pretend i'm a mermaid (merperson? merman?), but that is an entirely different subject that i would not delve deeper into.
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it seems as though fate and destiny (and any other anthromorphosized deities) have conspired me to deal with endless strings of social schemings. i despised being made to smooth my way out of a difficult situation. how i loath communication.
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i find myself to be in the middle of political intrigue (though of a miniscule scale) yet again. i find it hard to balance being the peacekeeper and a warlord, both at once. this is what cleopatra must have felt. it should be easier for hr since her situation isn't as metaphorical as mine. i'm not sure if unrolling my naked body off a rug would disenchant my rivals and bait them on my side. goddammit.
where's my mai tai when i need it.
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