The Mysterious Anti-Denmark Crusader (mertle) wrote,
The Mysterious Anti-Denmark Crusader

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Open your eyes before I leave a surprise on your white pasty thighs

Fuck, I am tired. Not specifically right now, because it's 4am and that is completely normal, but just in general. If you're ever wondering what I'm up to on my days off, there's a really good fucking chance that I'm asleep. Or wandering around the loungeroom aimlessly after just having woken up, before crashing on the ugly grey couch and falling asleep once more, while Matt and/or Pete play Xbox less than a metre away. Some may point to my ever-increasing work schedule (I think I'll crack the 100 hour fortnight within the next two months for sure) as a cause. Some will look towards my even-more-fucked-than-usual sleeping pattern (random 6:30am starts/midnight finishes with no discernable pattern will do that to you. Also staying up wicked late doing crosswords). And others may think it's purely because my diet has gone to complete shit recently (No matter what one certain Mr. Peter Long may tell you, Semolina is a wholesome and nutritious dinner choice), so I'm not really getting all the nutrienst I need to function. But I'm blaming the Tsetse fly and the sleeping sickness it brings. Yes, a disease that is rarely, if ever, seen outside of Sub-Saharan Africa is definitely a more likely cause than the ones listed previously.

You know who is totally in cahoots with that bastard tsetse fly? The beetle on my ceiling, that's who. Every night he's there, slowly circling my light in an ever-decreasing spiral, before changing directions and moving outwards once more. What are you trying to achieve, my brown shelled foe? Are you trying to hypnotise me with your intricate footwork, in hopes that I'll become your unthinking sex-slave? Or are you just high? Either way, your shit is leaving me concerned, baffled and a little weary.

The plans for what is likely to be my final Melbourne holiday ever are totally falling into place! The next time I go after this will be for good. Scary, y/n? But yeah, from the 11th-20th April I'll totally be open-game for any Victorian man-rapist types as I lurk in dark alleys dressed in seductive, yet easy to remove clothing. Or I'll just be napping in my hotel room with Jessie for the the entire duration of my trip like usual. We're sleepy people, okay?

I feel I should invest in some new shoes. Maybe another pair of jeans too. Likelihood of this occurring? Slim. I have a history of waiting until my shoes are completely destroyed until replacing them, and well... my trials and tribulations in the finding of 32 inch long leg bearing jeans are well documented.
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