Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

Moooo...

...is the low, plaintive sound of my hunger as I try to figure out what I'm going to eat for lunch. Something that isn't cow, perhaps.

I've decided today will be the day of many tiny posts about nothing. Little zen blossoms of emptiness. Or maybe goodness.

Random Spiders from Mars quote: "At the moment, the Big Bad was slumped in the far end of the tub, up to his shoulders in bubbles only slightly more white than his perfect skin, looking pretty much at home. Then again, silk sheets and candlelight Spike was a – what was the word – hedonist. He had his eyes shut and seemed to be dozing. No surprise there; the world in general knew that William the Bloody liked nothing better than to be warm, and, like a reptile, he had to soak up exterior heat since he generated none of his own. The humidity from the bath was making his hair frazzle into unruly curls that made him look even more decadent than usual. Buffy wanted to giggle. She knew that she was punchy with tiredness and that the hot water was relaxing her into an even greater state of loopiness. Her feet poked out of the bubbles on either side of Spike’s head and she realized that she really, really, really needed a pedicure. Her toenails looked like a Zagros demon’s. Zagros toenails or not, she poked Spike in the ear with her big toe. His eyes popped open and he gave her a sleazy, lazy smile."

And now, back to work.


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