Okay, whoa.

Evidently I did not let the magic science stuff (aka Cover Girl newfangled lip thing) dry completely yesterday. See, it's a two step process. Long story short, my mouth has been hot pink since 10 am, and there's nothing I can do about it. And, I am wearing breeches. I hope the people I am working with like freaks.

(no subject)

Actually, this is the kind of thing my high school friends and I did (and still do):

"We can listen to difficult music and play *Skittels Death Match.

*Skittels Death Match is where you squeeze two skittels together until one of them breaks, then you eat the flattened one. The winner goes on to face the next Skittle. When you get down to the last one you save that one. I have about 35 skittle champions at home. When I get to 64 I'lll host playoffs."

(no subject)

I saw Conan on the street this morning. We were both walking to work, you know, me and Conan.

He looked tired. Like he needed a squeeze.