Beetlebum, Cause We're Young.

So I'm at home in my small flat. My special person is on the couch, watching The Princess Bride on my couch, and he is covered in blankets and cuddling the pillows. It's hard to not go and cuddle him. But this is just how dedicated I am to updating this blog.
Frankly, I have astounded even myself.
So tonight is chilly. It's Friday. I'm in a good mood. I keep dancing to Blur and making some of the worst puns. I have a big pimple growing on my cheek. It's lurking there, waiting, but still can not dampen my energy tonight. I'm contemplating cutting my split ends. Or starting a story about someone living in Bristol. I feel like Bristol. Of course the name of my protagonist will forever elude me. I know some pointers here, some suggestions!
In other news I stopped feeling outrageously unstable and all is swell. I'm going to write. I'm going to feel better. I'm going to immerse myself entirely in myself. I need that. I need me.
I'm going to go cuddle now, and think of what I will write.

Stay tuned, groovy beavers.
I don't know why I said beavers. You're humans. I retire.