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kimmy_dreamer, not tagging anyone.
1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences (in your own journal!).
5. Tag five people.
"Ricorda il numero di targa dell'altra macchina?" gli spiò Montalbano.
"Sì" disse il vigile cavando dalla sacchetta una biro e un blocchetto.
Si appuntò il numero. Montalbano, che a sua volta l'aviva memorizzato, si addunò che era scritto sbagliato.
(La prima indagine di Montalbano - Andrea Camilleri)
Also, I like walking by the street with my TARDIS (that's the name of my MP3 player) slamming songs by The Who in my ears. It's not that pretty though when I have to go to the postal office, and I find myself mouthing "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? AAAAH, TELL ME WHO ARE YOU!" to innocent old people that don't even know WHAT I'm singing (in my head, because I don't really hate people that much), 'cause they don't know a word of english. That's pretty crazy.
But it's just pretty again when no one's around and there are just trees, and wisterias dying, so everything's green and white and pale purple, and it's beautiful, and that's when I don't mind being alone.
And I had a theory about evil birds having meetings about destroying the world on Wednesdays, because EVERY Wednesday I went to pick up Muriel, they were in the little bamboo forest that's on the way to her school, chatting endlessly. It was A LOT of little birds. And every other day, they weren't there! There had to be some killing-mankind plan going on. Instead, this Wednesday, they weren't there! It can only mean they started their plan, or a secret cat organization sent by the government killed them all. I don't know what to think anymore.
kimmy_dreamer, not tagging anyone.1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences (in your own journal!).
"Ricorda il numero di targa dell'altra macchina?" gli spiò Montalbano.
"Sì" disse il vigile cavando dalla sacchetta una biro e un blocchetto.
Si appuntò il numero. Montalbano, che a sua volta l'aviva memorizzato, si addunò che era scritto sbagliato.
(La prima indagine di Montalbano - Andrea Camilleri)
Also, I like walking by the street with my TARDIS (that's the name of my MP3 player) slamming songs by The Who in my ears. It's not that pretty though when I have to go to the postal office, and I find myself mouthing "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? AAAAH, TELL ME WHO ARE YOU!" to innocent old people that don't even know WHAT I'm singing (in my head, because I don't really hate people that much), 'cause they don't know a word of english. That's pretty crazy.
But it's just pretty again when no one's around and there are just trees, and wisterias dying, so everything's green and white and pale purple, and it's beautiful, and that's when I don't mind being alone.
And I had a theory about evil birds having meetings about destroying the world on Wednesdays, because EVERY Wednesday I went to pick up Muriel, they were in the little bamboo forest that's on the way to her school, chatting endlessly. It was A LOT of little birds. And every other day, they weren't there! There had to be some killing-mankind plan going on. Instead, this Wednesday, they weren't there! It can only mean they started their plan, or a secret cat organization sent by the government killed them all. I don't know what to think anymore.
My head feels all: 
calm
calm17 smiles | smile to me?
hopeful
blank