WOWW HOW ROMANTICCCCC

Speaking of the state of our kitchen, it seems something died. again. We tried salvaging the situation by frantically gathering the fallen pieces of wrappers / cans / food that had spilled over the bin, then running desperately to the door with the bin bag. Creepy thing was, something was dripping. And it dripped. onto. my. foot. OH. MY. GOD, you guys. So I let it down while completely freaking out. And then ran some more. And then dumped it onto the other 2 bags on our porch (garbage bin was already too full) I think a part of my foot shriveled up and died right there and then. It was disgusting to wash it as well because it was like, okay. DETTOL PLEASE. But what am I going to use to wash it? Definitely not my hands. So I used toilet paper. Ugh.

Best part was, after that, I was informed that there was a patch of wet guck on the floor where I had momentarily placed the bin bag down in disgust. And I had to clean it. God bless my soul it was so fucking sick because

1. How do I go about doing this?
2. I have no prior experience cleaning up muck.
3. The multi-purpose cleaning agent obviously isn't going to be sufficient (This was evident when I opened it. You know how cleaning detergents usually smell like fresh lime or something along those lines? It smelt the complete opposite.)
4. My hand has to touch that?! Albeit with a cloth, but still...

I got down on my knees and did it anyway. Took like 3 cloths and a shitload of that foul-smelling detergent to wipe it all off.

Guess who's a proud new owner of a mole!

It all started from the first time I noticed my sister's fingers (in a non-lesbionic manner, pervs) which must have been at a really young age because I remember 'training' my fingers to be like hers in Primary School. Anyway, point is, she has moles on her hands. So did my little girl crush and another girl crush and another girl crush. Understandably, being at a point of my life where I was but a young, impressionable soul, I started wanting to emulate that particular trait. Fast forward to Secondary School where I befriended this really 'cool' girl named Nicole whom I now affectionately call Dick (because that's just about as creative as it gets!) who coincidentally had moles on her hands as well that kind of marked the point in which I just decided with firm conviction that anyone with moles on their hands are blessed by god and will always be showered with good luck and love and light and intelligence.

I wanted to be like that.
NOW I AM!!

Kekeke

I may be the only one who gets this but,

OMG PAWS!!

We are happy to help

I lost my debit card.
Again.
dkfhalkefhlakdjfajseafhksdjghlakjdflakejfad
D: D: D: D: D: D: D:
SO.
FUCKING.
FRUSTRATING.

-

Took me like 5 minutes to sketch this. And I didn't even need to use a pencil first. Been awhile.

Am I dead now?

Apparently not.
Although the shading of the hair brought me to the brink of death but you know, I survived.
Meh.


Fruffie has finally finished her dissertation. THE dissertation that nearly drove her to death, or so it seemed. I just may be exaggerating. Not that she'd mind, really. Exaggeration just so happens to be one of her favourite past times. She'll be coming home after dinner with J and then she promised to let me pluck her eyebrows. That's something to look forward to.

MMMYEAAAP!

My editing is horribly warped. I don't even know why. It just looked odd no matter what I did.

Please note : nipples drawn onto tshirt. The right one looks like a bear, but it's actually meant to be a pierced nipple.

This is an image of a girl smoking in space.

Drew this in a jiffy 2 nights ago while Fruffie was asleep. Completely forgot about it until today.

It's really bad, but I've been listening to Someday by 아이유(IU) ON REPEAT. NON STOP. I don't even know if I got the artist right but that's what it came with on ihoneyjoo so if it's wrong, ITS NOT MY FAULT!!