bloodyrosemccoy (
bloodyrosemccoy) wrote2015-04-02 09:44 pm
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It's quarter to ten and I'm cruising around the kitchen on roller skates making tacos and singing along to my headphones.
... I think I've gone feral.
... I think I've gone feral.
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I used to joke about it sometimes when I was working as a night baker. That the baristas would come in some morning to open, and I'd be hiding in some little nest tucked into the steam pipes, flinging scones at anyone who came near. "Shit. The night baker's gone feral again. Get me the broom" *pokes me out of the nest*
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I suppose I can't go TOO feral if my brother comes to live with me, so it'll keep me sane. But on the other hand I might just drag him down with me.
"Dangit. We have to spray for night bakers ALL THE TIME. It's obnoxious when they get into the ducts, but at least the whole building smells delicious."
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