oy, friends. bitch and moan with a little woo-hoo.

[roxy]

I'm writing at the top of my game! It's a little depressing...but in the happy column, I'm having *fun*! REally, having a great time writing this current fic. Unfortunately, it's killed anything else for the time being. Ah well, can't have everything!
Stories, can't live with them...pass the beer nuts.

Thanksgiving is almost upon us. It's going to be a quiet thing here at the Rose Manse. Just us, and I've threatened Mr. Roxy with loss of a kidney if he invites anyone to dine with us. The man is a damn social butterfly. If it was up to him, I'd have been at everyone of your houses. Yes, he is that into people and company and visiting and...*stuff*. Me, I'm not so much a social one. Not so much the raconteur. More...hermity. In fact, I'm saving shoeboxes to wear on my feet. (Ha! That's funny stuff, right there, to folks my age.) So any hoo, the point of this post being lost somewhere along the line--love you all! Kisses! Watch the hair....

Comments

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

Oh girl, don't even think about apolgizing, no one knows more than I do how that can happen!

Yes, my man is the reason I'm allowed out in public at all. *G* Otherwise, little kids would be daring each other to walk up to the house, and telling stories about how last year, swear to god, bobby lost a ball in her back yard and NEVER CAME BACK OUT.... do yeah, balance. *g*

Happy turkey day to you too, my love, and as per traditon, we'll be murdering some bird but good.