This is not another slapstick, laugh-my-ass-off entry to amuse myself. I promise.

So many things have transpired over the past few weeks, but I just cannot find my strength to face them. Probably because I've channeled my blood, sweat and tears into handling my Sim and her 6 boyfriends. And also because I still cannot find her a Boyfriend Sunday. Alas, I've failed.

Firstly, my little sweetpeas, I am pleased to announce that I've discovered the friggin' spawn of Adolf- Keep your little green pea pods open for Adolfa! She is a bulldozer (quite literally one, too) that evilly plans to make the lives of your 2 favourite little sweetpeas uber uber schrecklich. And the rest of the chronicles is too much of a devastating tragedy to reveal but you sorta get the gist of it. You know, just envision loads of blood, loads of bang-bang-bang and loads of cheesy 'My Little Broccoli! Save yourself!'. Well, that's what always happens in war movies. Sweetpeas, I urge you! Operation Annihilate-Adolfa must commence with dynamic dynamism! We'll reveal our supremacy by stuffing her nasal cavity with pea pods or something! Hurrah! Hurrah!

Secondly, I kinda suspect that I've bitten off more than I could chew. It's like I'm being offered one banana split but I ended up swallowing the entire Swensens cafe in one mighty gulp. Hey, that sounds friggin' delicious. Okay, no sidetracking. Sticky chewy chocolate topped with marshmallow fudge. No sidetracking. Celebrity brownie with vanilla ice-cream, whipped cream and a myriad of chocolate jimmies. NO SIDETRACKING. Okay, with a reality check in hand, let me tell you why I've landed myself in this choking situation. Michelle and I are planning a birthday party. That's it. Now here's the part you go, "OOH! AAH! GOSH! OH MY GOODNESS! SUCH DIFFICULT TIMES! MY POOR LITTLE GIRLS!" and then plant loads of disgusting, slobbery kisses onto our delicate cheeks to aid us through the dark, despairing tunnel of party- planning. Hmm. This party has better be awesome.

Last but not least, as if all of the above was just the infinitesimal bits of appetizer, I've to face the root of all evil. Eht ykaens sregnif fo Desire psarg em ylmrif. Tithigime ithigand tithigme ithigagain, Ithigi fithigind mithigyself ithigentangled bithigy trithigicky Desire, whithigo pritighovokes ithigevery chithigamber ithigof mithigy lithigonging hithigeart. I evah deirt ot nur yawa morf Desire tub Temptation sdloh em kcab, ekil a layol emirc-ni-rentrap. Thithigis emag si gnitteg gnileurg. Ithigi ithigam sithiguccumbing tithigo Desire.

Alas, I've failed.

The Queen Tells It Like It Is

Her Majesty
Crowned 3rd Oct 1989
Can crack a walnut with her butt NastyLawn-mower
Pain in the arse
Be afraidBe very afraid


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Can You Make The Queen?

How to make a Cassandra

Ingredients: 1 part pride 1 part crazyiness 5 parts ego

Method: Stir together in a glass tumbler with a salted rim. Add a little cocktail umbrella and a dash of lovability