Wednesday, June 8, 2005
> pimp my blog
1030am. there are no birds chirping. there are no sounds of traffic. weird. except for a faint bus wailing. with only the chillouthappypartytunes of Miguel Migs and my frantic tippity-typing, filling the tinyspace of air within my room. with the eternal question beckoning: "can a man sleep 12hours and still be tired?" = and beckon no more for the answer is ... yes. fcuklahdey. can barely keep my
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2005
(492)
-
▼
June
(47)
- > declaration
- > on duty
- > sounds of the 80's
- > weird wednesday
- > appreciation
- > travellin' man
- > my confused monday
- > carnage
- > old friend
- > ring ring
- > temptations
- > who says im vain?
- > wanna buy some chocolates?
- > the gentle mist
- > PR and the past
- > the balloon and the butterfly
- > happy tree friends ... and friends
- > of polyclinic adventures and pensive musings
- > too shyshy hushhush why do i
- > of phantom itches and blogs i lurk on
- > rumble
- > meow
- > me? disorder?
- gaiman in singapore
- > lament
- > running'round
- > week of change
- on edge
- > i wanna be just a pet
- > in the twilight morn
- > traction
- > nooooooooo
- > silent but deadly
- > thegoodlife
- > wonderin'
- > pimp my blog
- > wimp
- > fizzle
- > scream
- > armani for $10
- > a confused high
- > fallen
- > deadweight
- > dreaminglife
- > rest for the damned
- > workthursday
- > screwed senses?
-
▼
June
(47)
|
|---|
0 comments:
Post a Comment