-Feanor.Net :: Deeper Magic from the Dawn of Time-

If The Godfather Part III taught me anything it's that it's perfectly acceptable to hook up with a relative. Provided nobody actually finds out and/or believes in said arrangement. She's too tall for me... ? I'm no Terry Benedict, people. I'm statuesque. Pseudo-chunk. Something fascinating, that's all you need to know.

About our love.
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Information

Networks:
Chicago, IL
Relationship Status:
In an Open Relationship with Allison Rene Prehn
Birthday:
December 21, 1980
Current City:
Chicago, IL
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Yes, it's casual and yes, yes of course, we're both barkeeps/dancers at Jabba's Palace. The one above Nal Hutta, not the boring assed-out one in outskirts of the desert. You know, not the one with the amphibian juggernaut/guardian that ingests albatross-sized mosquitoes with each nonchalant flick of its tongue.

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Speaking of that quasi-legendary relative, I had to explain the source of chocolate soy milk- miraculous discovery, just today- to the newest FLATMATE(tm) at this here hostel. Obviously, it's when the dark spots on a bovine overlap onto a teet, multiple spigots if yo' nasty(fortunate). And you are, aren't you. As such, When The Titties Are Tanned, Expect The Hershey To Flow Like Sand. Nothing else rhymed, bitches. I don't know why Grampsnatch was cited here, aside from the wayward synapse firing that had to have been spawned by his meddling... before or after I plowed under a third of the sweet corn in 1987, we'll never know.

That's right, I'm the biggest horse's ass in three counties.
Marlys, do you wanna step outside.
Fine.
/slams copy of Pawn of Prophecy on desk

Holidays are near. I'll get to all of them this time.
And, they've all got me supplying the booze.
Because they respect me.
My lifestyle.
Of...
Productivity.

It's nearly time to turn in, but first, we'll be doing lines off the trampstamp. Hey, get serious, it's powdery snow, it's a trampoline. Keep it classy. We cannot possibly afford blow in the midst of This Economic Downturn, though the Cartilage In Our Nostrils Remains Strong. Sister, this is what happens, when you press me. Say something.
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Allison (cuzcuz) wrote at 12:47pm
"...Umm, I just got back from lunch with Birdie and Papa Rich. I told them you were going to the inauguration. Then Grandpa yells(very very loud), I like Sarah! She is Purrrrrrtty!!..."
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He's not blood related so that will be allowed to happen.
Minus the mandatory retaliation.
Just, this, once.
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Dad's announced the arrival of the esteemed matriarch on his 'Social Sounding Board' so I'd wager a guess: she's still chillin' at the homestead, mark iv, to be fair. It was an interesting(ly odd) week. The newly-christened Kings of Fecal Engorgement back in CF decided to 'Permanently Misplace' my winter wheels & treads, resulting in narcotics for them and a complete financial disaster and time-suction for moi. Fortunately the trip was validated a billion-fold as Momakins(tm) had fallen quite strangely feverish for a long-extended period. We had some good times, alongside the draining of her pigskin-sized kidney... though some mysteries may remain to be fully ironed... methinks she is in fantastic shape, and strong, and overpoweringly popular within the valley that houses her soul. Which, to be fair, is comprised of gold-encrusted, shimmering, splendidness. Tell me princess, now, when, did, you, last, let your bloodwork decide. Said reports will continue to improve, Lord Vishnu (just now!) tickled my scalp in confirmation of this by way of his (sanctified) ethereal dorsal teet.
Exactly- extrapolate that, shatz.

My mom is the best and I don't care what anyone else says.
Not even you, Mr. President.

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This is quite inspiring.
Only, not in the way you would desire, Lil' Miss Masculine...
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"I'm like, OK, God, if there is an open door for me somewhere, this is what I always pray, I'm like, don't let me miss the open door," Palin said in an interview with Fox News on Monday. "And if there is an open door in 12 or four years later, and if it is something that is going to be good for my family, for my state, for my nation, an opportunity for me, then I'll plow through that door."

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Saturdays would be considerably improved armed with a worthwhile Hawkeye gunslinger, don't you know. Dude, they've been in every, single, game. And this beanpole of a moron who shares a name with Wolfie's mate in Amadeus just threw the pigskin into a group of four, count 'em four, Nittany Lions. Holy shit we didn't have "possession" of said pig-fragment a few seconds later.

Outside, the world has turned, apparently for keeps. The hemispheres are now aligned appropriately with each preset, seasonal requirement, with no reversal in sight. That'll have to do. Elsewhere, I told myself I would 'Legitimately Attempt' to find at least a viable vein for 'Employment', some pathway to entertain and probe going forward, at the very least. But you see, I've yet to defeat Skull Castle in MM9, the house is morphing, unimpeded, into a frigid compost heap, and I haven't seen Ben, Mags, Rahm Emanuel (props for making my sockets seem comparatively regular) or anyone from 'South Chicago' in, that's right, well over a month. Abandonment is a harsh pill to swallow... I've always said that.

DIGRESSION.....

Tyler
4:28
jesus christ stanzi got a first and ten

Travis
4:28
one per half usually
Respect.

Tyler
4:28
"nice pickup"
come on you fucking hawks
YES

Travis
4:41
guess what
i'm never clipping my nails again
hehehehee

Tyler
4:41
that's so punk rock
WE FUCKING HIT THE QB
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