'Breaking news'

Peaches here mateys...

So I came home from work this evening, and found this little note from Camilla sitting in my inbox:

Girl dies in horrible boating accident
Peaches, or von Wuttenberger as she was called by her close ones,
were this evening found crushed by a boat in the middle of London.
Sources say she was still at work in the desolate area in the South of
England at 7pm this evening, but then her actions are unaccounted
for. How she got there is a mystery for the police. Her parents and
friends say she was a gentle, thought highly sexually frustrated girl.

I think that did all the work in the gym section, I mean five minutes of rolling on the floor laughing must count for some calories/muscle builders right?

Maybe it is just more of an inside thing. Maybe normal people just do not appreciate our insanity the same way we do. Or perhaps we’re just too far out of the circle of social normality to realize we’ve gone coko for coco puffs.

Speaking of which, most embarrassing moment of the last six months-award was just topped.
When your boss actually walks in and asks about those handcuffs... you know you’re in trouble. Especially if said fluffy hand cuffs are currently hidden under your desk, while their existence is slowly becoming a rather epic horror/comic story. I presume there will be more digs about them to come, but frankly I can only blush so much and am now done with it! Damn you Camilla, how I love your wacky ways!!!

Now, about that sexual frustration?

Peaches

P.S. I will still bring the key ( I presume they will be lent out at some point), and the bottle still holds until then... sorry love, it’s too good a story to pass up on. & what Cam said in the last post, if anyone wants to shed some light on... eh? the thoughts behind thinspiration?!!?

Ey! And gooeyness

Okay, Peaches here...

And first of all let me clarify one... two... a couple of things. One, Camilla is an amazing friend. She tells you those little things you need to hear like "dude, get the f@ck out and get milk cause you need to get laid." And of course knows how to mind-game you into doing exactly that regardless of your excellent reasonings not to... because, really, think about this. Computer and ice cream for a night in vs. gooey eyed boy in the grocery store...

Yes. He has gooey eyes. I hate the damned gooey things. I hate the girly little thingy whispering in the... my... ehrm... head. It's annoying, and he's just a pretty little puppy thing and then I will visciously dump him and carry on being the "wound up bitch" (quote per 40yr old whom I did not allow to buy me Whiskey). I can add "with serious committment issues" to that. But nevermind.

I went. I saw. I made very snarky and fairly cool (i.e. he might not have noticed the riddiculous creeping blush and the way I stared at his lips) comments, got my milk, and left. See, goal achieved. Not, to throw some things back. 1. I am so not falling into the little compartment of girlieness which includes but is not limited to constant swooning, making 'awh' noises (I will stop it soon enough), or pouting while wearing too much make up in the hopes he'll unbotton his shirt for the world...

... mmm..

Oh, no right... No. Not happening. Just a tinsy bit of sexual frustration here, nothing more. Now, abt miss Camilla here... Bastard's been creative and productive and is coming close to going way way past the 50,000 word count mark this month. Remember those annoying ppl who got things done and could put 'The end' signs on things I yapped about earlier? *points * There, there's one of them... Love her though, and am counting the days til I can see her (and secretly steal her hard drive).

Is it wierd that I really want peaches now?

PS. US guys or citizens or anybody eligible to vote, get out and vote dammit! For any of the candidates, or Don Rosa, or even Paris... Just vote! It's democracy for you... :)