crow

at my house

Mary is reading Breaking Dawn. Every now and again, some kind of incredulous noise issues from her chair.

Sam is putting off playing the Sims by revising his paper. When we last left one of his sim families, they had a newborn infant sleeping in a crib outside. In the snow.

Mike is overlaying historical maps in Google Earth.

Miriam is cooking.

I am researching the mechanics of gay swan sex.

( ... what? It's for fic! Why are you looking at me like that?)
  • Current Mood: artistic artistic
It's like an evening with the Victorian aristocracy in many ways, isn't it? Well, apart from the swan penises.
Sam is putting off playing the Sims by revising his paper.

Whoa whoa whoa. This stated sequence of priorities is so completely antithetical to everything I stand for that I can barely even make sense of it.
I know, right? I keep yelling at him to finish it so we can do something fun.

It's a good thing he had me look it over, though, because it was full of citations of "Figure something". Apparently, everything is in figure something, if only you can find it.