gretchen scabior is the spice of life

[warded to Trevor]
where are you.

[warded to Trevor]
I'm so fucking sick of this rain and cold and teasingly slightly warm temperatures and then right back to fucking rain and cold BULLSHIT. LET'S MOVE.

In other news, I might have to obliviate T can I talk to why are you my only friend? I know what you're going to there has to be another way but FUCK

[warded to Terrence]
When are you free?

[warded to Trevor]
Oi. Don't make any plans for Tuesday.

[warded to Trevor]
Oi.

[warded to T]
Oi. I'm bored. You doing anything exciting?

[warded to Malcolm Bobbin and Terrence Higgs]
Oi, Bobbin, did you just get shagged?

[warded to Trevor]
So, you like boats, aye?

Also, please remind me why it's a bad idea to kill random people.

It is ridiculously cold out. I mean honestly. It's NEGATIVE EIGHT DEGREES OUT. What is the point of that?! Why is that even possible?! The only good thing about this stupid season is that it increases the ability to curl up under blankets and sleep or be fucked. And really, I don't need much of an excuse for that.

If it's this fucking cold out tomorrow, I'm calling a snow day from work. Or a cold day. A stay home in bed day. Who's with me?

(  i've met vintage people who boast of shipwrecks and bravery but i've never met someone quite like you  )