I've been a very bad girl.
I really wish I could say that with an Eartha Kitt purr in my voice, but aside from a saucy little thought about a boy in my environment lately, my badness mostly has to do with Hoovering of far too much horrible junky food in the last couple of days. I'm losing control.
And that's all I'm going to say about that. Because frankly? Diets are tiresome. And so is failing mental health.
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Oh! Oh! Saturday! The last Christmas party I'll attend for Piranha Inc. is happening, and I'm going to debut my new sexy-hot hair that night. I've decided, poppets, that a change is in order. I'm starting a new career; I'm trying (on some days unsuccessfully, but trying nonetheless) to diminish the size of my bottom, the holidays are looming and I'm going to England for a couple of weeks in January. Thus, new hair. New Hair!
You know I love nothing so much as I love New Hair, my beauties! And you know I've been playing with the idea for weeks now. Today I made the appointment, and Saturday afternoon, I'm going to get re-coifed, and oh! how happy that makes me, I can't even tell you! Sexy hot! That's my new thing now, poppets.
A Seriously Wise Woman once told me that "nothing can stop us from being hotties. Nothing." And who am I to ignore such logic? Hmm?
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Also! I'm going to get this damn Notify List to work! I am, I am! I'm going to make it work, and I'm going to get it to stick to my page, because for some reason, it seems to be made of Teflon or something, and refuses to appear where it's supposed to appear. And I swear to Prada, if it doesn't work today, I'm handing the assignment over to one of you guys. Ok? Ok? Love you. Especially you. And you. Because you're sexy hot.
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There is nothing more I can share with you today, my darlings. It's enough that I brought down the height of my inbox a few inches, and did some sparkly-eye flirting with someone whom I have no business flashing any bit of my sparkle. Which is why I'll probably continue; and maybe do some barely appropriate touching. Because, frankly, it's Christmas, and we should walk around always believing that there's a sprig of mistletoe dangling above us.
Happy Wednesday, my darlings. Stand under some mistletoe.
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