gooseberryhigh | (no subject)

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FREEDOM!

The Most Glorious and Upstanding City of Hamilton is now officially Jesse-McBride-free and oh, it feels good!

The power came back on just in time for the Leafs–Rangers game! I'm no longer grounded! (It turns out that being snowed in for three days seemed like sufficient punishment to Gord and Flo!) I have two Healer Training applications ~~mostly~~ done! It's almost Christmas!

Basically, this feels exactly like Gooseberry except I don't have a makeout plague. Pity.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Quinn. NOT FUCKING LIKE THAT

IM JUST GONNA SAY HI

Yeah, and I know how you make friends. After 'hi' you've a quarter chance of courting the goat or a quarter chance of punching the goat and then courting it. I'm just giving you friendly advice: you can't bring goats to prom ~~and the Stoker girl might get sad~~.

I usually skip prom to get laid anyway

[...]

Fuck you Quinn. Me and this goat are just gonna chill and watch people and get drunk. The goat might want some moonshine.

All I'm doing is recommending that you don't rely on the goat too much, and I may not know much about ~~animals, period~~ goats, but I don't think the goat should have moonshine. You probably shouldn't be drinking the moonshine, either.

But I know you're going to drink it anyway, so just know that I'm not leading your blind ~~ass~~ butt around campus when you get back.

Mmmm I'm gonna ignore this because it sounds too close to a lecture

And also a lie. You're definitely gonna lead my blind ass around if I ever make it back.

That's because you needed one and also no, I'm not.

I'm not gonna fuck a goat dude

And also, you probably will. Or I might just live here forever. It could really go either way.

That was strictly about moonshine.

"Living there forever" sounds like a death sentence, Park.

Oh. Okay yeah that sounds even more plausible but also you started too late

Living is a death sentence, Quinnifer

It's not my fault that you're a lost cause.

Let's not get poetic.

Hey. I went all break without drinking. I got a tattoo sober. This is fucking day one. I'm fucking pacing myself.

It's great tho. I befriended this fucking goat. Did I tell you about my goat?

You told me about your ~~fucking~~ goat, now tell me about the tattoo: what? And while you're at it, who, where, why, and when? (Keep in mind I've been trapped on Hoth for half of the week.)

Levi and ty visited for the last two days. It started out with just Levi but we made it a group field trip and my mom wanted to get a tattoo too and I was like mom what the fuck. So In conclusion, we all got tattoos.

~~Even T~~ ~~What is in the fucking water~~ Matching tramp stamps?

Nah. Figured I'd go for something more poetic

~~Thank God.~~ And?

photo c36d3efc-bf90-49f2-b614-bbbff371a9c9.jpg

How's that shit for wearing your heart on your sleeve? Fucking poetic. Felt less poetic at the time, but Chuck over here is positive this shit is poetic as fuck now.

[OOC: image spellotaped in, but also ignore that random half wing, that's not on Chris's arm. Image also moves steadily, in tune with an actual heartbeat.]

It's certainly [...] literal. ~~Did you at least make sure the place was clea~~

It's a new year. I'm making some changes.

I mean it's not literally a new year. I'll make some changes in a week. Until then, I'm gonna see how long I can stay drunk.

It's like I'm a fucking ... baby butterfly building a fucking cocoon right now. In a week I'll emerge as a fucking butterfly.