But You. But You Write Such Pretty Words…

Huzzah!

Which is code for: I finished the last chapter and I’m eating a victory ham sandwich.

Although, if I’m honest, I think the bread has gone off. So, I’ll stop eating. How disgusting. I may have to eat a victory chocolate bar instead. I’m not a calorie counter, but going on size, I’m going to say that it’s healthier for me. Eventually, I’ll figure out that there is something drastically wrong with this theory and that over the course of being victorious I have, indeed, outgrown my house. There are various problems involved with outgrowing one’s house. The first problem is that you then have to wear the house as a form of clothing because until you start wasting away… there’s no way that house is going to let you wriggle out of the biggest window or door. In fact, you may need to take the roof off and live in a circus tent until you’ve dieted… a lot. Secondly, you won’t be able to reach your computer. This means that you’ll have to drag your sorry arse (house attached) to the nearest library and lean in through the window to type. Of course, you won’t be able to press the keys properly and therefore be unable to type any sense whatsoever. If you choose to read to while your time away, you will sadly be unable to turn the pages in your book as your hands will be absolutely massive. You might as well just give up on everything… unless you’re a prankster. In which case, your only use is to pretend that you are actually a house and creep up on groups of people. When they least expect it, attack!

This is guaranteed to terrify everybody you jump out at to death.

I don’t know about you, but if a house-sized, house-wearing person jumped out at me… I’d be pretty damn scared. You also have to make sure that you don’t accidentally jump out onto the people you’re trying to scare. A nice little prank on various family members could turn into a trip to the hospital for your elderly relatives and a trip to the morgue for that hated aunty you stepped in. Stepping in aunts, no matter how hateful, may cause tension with parents and is thus not advised.

I think I must be tired. I only write such bizarre drivel when I’m tired. Don’t let me put you off eating, though. Nothing should put you off eating.

Just don’t become house-sized.

This has to be my most random entry yet. I should probably crack on with talking about something that is actually news. I guess one thing is that I’ve been helping my friend sort out the navigation bar etc for the new site. He’s also successfully iframed this in, which you’ll get to see when he’s completed the site. My formspring has been iframed in as well. The link is still at the side if you want to ask me anything there. Really, I don’t mind. I get bizarre questions anyway.

Something that has annoyed me, however, was my younger brother. He always annoys me. I may blog about how much quite a lot so please feel free to ignore me when I do so. It’s just because I need a release. Anyway, he irritated me this morning because I went to use the bathroom next to my room. I couldn’t. He’d stuffed loads of loo roll in it again and just left it. So I went to use the other one, not realising he was in there faffing about with his hair or whatever he does. I got yelled at about how I was everywhere and he hated me. On the upside, that meant he left and I actually got to use the toilet (I know. This is just thrilling stuff, isn’t it? Be thankful I didn’t go into too much detail). On the downside, he went to his room, cranked up the volume on his stupid screamo music (that was loud anyway) and started singing along. Also loud. So by the time I’d barely been awake five minutes, I’d been yelled at and had a headache. The bit that made me really angry, however, was when I went to get a shower and there was no hot water. So yes, I’ve spent most of the day looking even more like a hobo than usual. Men annoy me. If I knew how to change my internal preferences to women, I would… though I suspect we may be just as problematic.

Also, I may write another piece of flash fiction when I’ve finished writing the Epilogue of Secrets (I bet you’re sick of hearing about it now). This means that, if you have any random sentences you want me to make a piece of flash fiction out of, you should comment below. Thanks and don’t outgrow your house!

(Lyrics in the title are from Lover I Don’t Have To Love by Bright Eyes)

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