Firstly, yes, I love Hugh Grant. It’s the hair. And the little-boy-lost look. But mostly, it’s the hair.
Secondly, all ye who … well … this could take a while.
Thirdly, this is not going to make a lot of sense so … yeah.
So. It is no secret that I am now into the secret. Yes, I know, a lot of people think it’s silly crazy hoopla, but it works. Really. At least, it works for me. Sometimes it works so well that it’s scary.
I have, since reading the book, manifested a dress, green eyes, and 2012.
Yes, I realise that sounds *slightly* insane, so I shall move along swiftly to less loopy matters. Bear with me, I am going somewhere with this. Though in all honesty, I don’t know where that is yet.
Incidentally, they say ‘tell me what a man [or woman] laughs at and I will tell you who he/she is.’ There’s a rather nasty joke going round twitter. Something about Chinese phones. It’s really mean … but it’s also really funny. Almost as funny as – don’t kanye me. So, I wonder what that says about me. Hm.
Oh ok, four twighaps and a facial. A twighap is not something connected to twitter. It’s something connected to a twigget. Or rather to my desire to be a twigget.
A twigget, btw, is anybody who works with computers. I picked the term off K2. I have a fetish for twiggets generally, though I have particular issues with one particular twigget, whom I have **cough*cough*affectionately*cough** named … Twiggy.
So, back to my twighaps. They’re actually a lot more than three, but the key ones for today are three. So I shall perhaps name the sub-haps a,b,c … or 1,2,3 … or maybe αβγ?