George is asleep, having worked hard all last night and into this morning -- but I'm still sorely tempted to shake him awake and scream at him: "You hid the bar of Ghiradelli milk chocolate I brought home last week! WHERE? WHERE THE HELL DID YOU PUT IT? GIVE IT TO ME, YOU BASTARD, GIVE IT TO ME NOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!"
Does that make me a bad person? ;-)
*fucking PMS...*
EDIT: Yes, I'm joking. About waking George up that is, not about craving chocolate so badly that every nerve in my body is aching for it.
Does that make me a bad person? ;-)
*fucking PMS...*
EDIT: Yes, I'm joking. About waking George up that is, not about craving chocolate so badly that every nerve in my body is aching for it.
**gently picks up her easter bunny**
I know what you mean about the chokkie, tho! **Stares at her easter bunny, then shrugs**