and then...mugs

mugs carry tea and shots, mugshots. 

And there are new ones! All the ones, you may click here. 

What is it with Mondays that I'm always pressed for time? Not a good day to make the blog updates. I may have to switch to Sundays or some such thing. Between my acting lab and screenings and traveling and errands that all love my Mondays, why do I add blog updates to the list? 

Alright, alright I'll switch to Sundays. I have to return library books today. I've had them for years. I never wanted to give them back but they're not worth the fees. =.= And isn't it the greatest thing, a library? A sign of highest wealth. That, and I fat pet. I feel a little broke sometimes but then I realize that I have a fat pet. 

Lesson of the day: don't complain if you have a fat pet. Tomorrow I must begin my new plan, five hours of sleep a night but no messing about, about gas money, I could use some.

Right no messing around about because I'll be writing not six but SEVEN hours a day. I don't know what about the homework. 

So you like the new mugshots. Well. Effective, that's what Mickey Willard is. She knows my meaning so. The idea is to dehumanize the subject a little, dwarf his face with relevant trimmings. I do hope you'll be seeing his face in places new. The new pictures made the Beta Muse quite happy.

He was sick this morning, though. In a serious way. Just that strange morning ailment of the body wanting to purge upon waking; or wake upon purging...he never could really tell the difference. I've got to, though, in the next 24 hours. It's called deadline. 

And as a note, I think I will start posting on Sundays instead. Maybe Sunday nights or some odd thing. Mondays just aren't working and the posts are getting shorter and shorter again.

Stretch from the side, stretch from the side, side stretch stretching from his ribs around; don't end a sentence with a prepostion or "a preposition" so from his ribs around to his brain stem. Electric stars there make stars. That's how they move on the flooring.