Important ANNOUNCEMENT. Not really.

Moved the Toilet to Tumblr.

Newly Renovated is over at this wing:


Tah-daaah!

DramaTweets

    For a Good Cause...


    Cherubic Ceramics



    In a sad, no, correction - PATHETIC attempt to make myself forget I was depressed for some lame-@** reason I refuse to put in here, I painted those ceramic thingies found in one of the malls here.

    Sat across two kids who were probably 8 or 10 years old. (Their names were Camille and Christine.) (They're cousins.) (Camille paints a kick-butt castle, Christine paints a kick-butt fruit basket thingy.) (Spent a lot of time with them, did I not?)

    So well anyhoo, back to the story... I chose to paint a cherub and, at my Dad's request, a fruit thingamajig. With the mood I was in, I wanted to paint the cherub black and call it "
    Ceramic Me" but decided against it because, well, Daddy Dearest gets pissed off when I go all dark and gloomy.

    Picasso, I am not, I was glad though that my sister decided to paint the other ceramic thingy. Made me feel better that I know colors better than she does.

    Oh well. Life this, Life that. Complain here, complain there.

    C'est La Vie. Adieu, mes
    Bébés.

    The Unnamed Cherub by DramaQueen



    PS
    Totally cryptic, am I not?
    Thoughts are jumbled today.
    Couldn't think straight.


    My Nose is stuck on:
    This.



    Nose will be buried under this:
    Next.

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    A Poem

    Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    By Robert Frost




    Whose woods these are I think I know.
    His house is in the village, though;
    He will not see me stopping here
    To watch his woods fill up with snow.



    My little horse must think it queer
    To stop without a farmhouse near
    Between the woods and frozen lake
    The darkest evening of the year.

    He gives his harness bells a shake
    To ask if there's some mistake.
    The only other sound's the sweep
    Of easy wind and downy flake.

    The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
    But I have promises to keep,
    And miles to go before I sleep,
    And miles to go before I sleep.



    The DramaQueen has been stealing this many souls:

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    The author shall not be held responsible for any scrunched foreheads
    and raised eyebrows brought about by reading this blog.

    You got yourself into this mess, Bub


    Your Resident DramaQueen would like to give props to: