when there’s a will, but not a word

Tonight is the time of that strange, unfulfilled feeling of having thoughts and emotions to share, without knowing what exactly those thoughts and emotions are. I’ll splutter on for a while in the hopes of curing the symptoms.

It’s probably something to do with my feeling frustrated and mildly disappointed. It’s just one of those evenings when you’re really looking forward to going out and having a good time, so much so that you jinx yourself and end up back home even before Cinderella.

That, or it’s something to do with the several vodka apples in meinem Bauch.

German is a funny language. I think God was having problems with his computer when he invented German. Similar to when you FORGET THE CAPS LOCK KEY IS PRESSED AND END UP SHOUTING. Except in the case of German, God had been eating sticky toffee apples, or maybe really sugary tea, or dried prunes, or cracker bread with philadelphia and sweet chili sauce on top. Actually, it probably was just a spoonful of honey.

Let’s just keep it simple and say God was eating something sticky. His sticky fingers then brushed over the shift key. The inhabitant of the shift key screamed in protest as the stickiness oozed under it’s little black helmet/covering type thing. Thus resulting in a Key that Randomly Capitalizes words which Equals German!

Speaking of German, I spoke to this boy when I was in Jaguar Shoes last night. Well, more like he poked me to get my attention, asked me what I did for a living (nothing) and then when I asked him the question in turn, replied with “I’m a model”.

…yeah. That’s about when the conversation died out. My friend subtly kicked me under the table to make me give him my number when he asked for it, but I misinterpreted it and refused. As a compromise, I took his instead. Then, as he walked away with his long skinny legs and long trench coat, he looked around to give me an attempted hooded look. It would’ve worked if he was older.

He did his best, bless him. Blim!

Awww. The joys of a true ramble. Ooops. I meant ‘aahh’. Whatever, they’re basically the same.

As a final note, here are some links for all you link lovers out there. Don’t be shy.
Look Around You!
I love lamp

On the other hand, have you ever tried mixing Baileys and coke? You should do it, it’s amazing. But don’t drink it, or you will die! Seriously!


About A.M. Harte

A.M. Harte writes twisted speculative fiction, such as the post-apocalyptic Above Ground and the zombie love anthology Hungry For You. She is excellent at missing deadlines, has long forgotten what ‘free time’ means, and is utterly addicted to chocolate.
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