...that in my town, we have to have a bloody festival dedicated to them, in which poor unknowing victims are "volunteer"-ed to move/carry/lift enormously heavy objects three times their body weight, as well as entertaining small children at the same time. stare
Oh yes, pity me. My arms ache like billy-o, and I think I strained my back trying to shift a huge bloody tent all by my lonesome since no one else would help me. sweatdrop All the while I go bitched at by a**l vendors because their booths needed help and I wasn't doing it fast enough for their liking. stressed
And I got stung in the hand by a mean wasp!
As a result, I now have a deep seated loathing for gourds. whee
Logical? No.
Do I care? Not likely. stare
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Inside Tarma's Head...
Well here it is. My journal. Know it. Pl-l34r 17. But how will I use it? For good? For evil? For now, I am unsure, but one thing I do know: there will be cows involved.
Pain is temporary.
Pride is eternal.
Suffer in silence.