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i'm on a roll. or something.
Uh, yet another assortment of icons! Sixteen through twenty three were made a while ago for clex_monkie89, who is lurvely and also snazzerific. Yadda, yadda, usual blah blah, want-take-have, customize, blah blah. Sorry for the three-collumn formatting, but...yeah. HTML + me = bad.
And now for some pointless, semi-grouchy babbling, mostly caused by hormones. Feel free to, like, run along at this point if you don't wanna read the rest - you don't need to comment if you're taking an icon, though I appreciate the thought muchly.
I was talking to Robin earlier about friends and how certain people just seem to be meant for you - whether it's because of something complicated and stupid (my theory) or just fate (Robin's much simpler theory), there are times when you get this INSANT bolt of 'yeah, you belong with me'. I've had it happen to me a few times, and it's always an incredible feeling, knowing something's just fitted into place and your world is better for it.
But, y'know, on the flip side, there are always people who you meet and immediately dislike. The person opens their mouth for the first time and you already want to stuff a dirty sock in or maybe just kick them in their teeth to save yourself trouble down the line. Uh huh, you know exactly what I mean, don't you. And, well, that's life. You're gonna meet people you love and people you don't, can't be helped. I just wish there weren't so goddamn many of the second.
I just. It's even worse when they keep going like they have no idea you're seething. And I'm pretty much an open book about seething. I rarely get pissed off, but when I do, I rage in a really obvious way. But, no, no, keep going! Talk about how fucking lovely and perfect you are. Really. I'll wait until you're finished to knee you in the crotch, you malicious, ungrateful, self-centered little maggot. Maybe then it'll penetrate that you're not interesting and you're not entitled to know anything about me and you're not perfect - especially not now that I've rendered you incapable of having children. Not that you had a fucking chance in hell of making any to begin with. No woman in her right mind would want your defective genes.
Clearly this is not directed towards any of you, so. Carry on. I just needed to get it out.
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And now for some pointless, semi-grouchy babbling, mostly caused by hormones. Feel free to, like, run along at this point if you don't wanna read the rest - you don't need to comment if you're taking an icon, though I appreciate the thought muchly.
I was talking to Robin earlier about friends and how certain people just seem to be meant for you - whether it's because of something complicated and stupid (my theory) or just fate (Robin's much simpler theory), there are times when you get this INSANT bolt of 'yeah, you belong with me'. I've had it happen to me a few times, and it's always an incredible feeling, knowing something's just fitted into place and your world is better for it.
But, y'know, on the flip side, there are always people who you meet and immediately dislike. The person opens their mouth for the first time and you already want to stuff a dirty sock in or maybe just kick them in their teeth to save yourself trouble down the line. Uh huh, you know exactly what I mean, don't you. And, well, that's life. You're gonna meet people you love and people you don't, can't be helped. I just wish there weren't so goddamn many of the second.
I just. It's even worse when they keep going like they have no idea you're seething. And I'm pretty much an open book about seething. I rarely get pissed off, but when I do, I rage in a really obvious way. But, no, no, keep going! Talk about how fucking lovely and perfect you are. Really. I'll wait until you're finished to knee you in the crotch, you malicious, ungrateful, self-centered little maggot. Maybe then it'll penetrate that you're not interesting and you're not entitled to know anything about me and you're not perfect - especially not now that I've rendered you incapable of having children. Not that you had a fucking chance in hell of making any to begin with. No woman in her right mind would want your defective genes.
Clearly this is not directed towards any of you, so. Carry on. I just needed to get it out.