A Cleaning Mastie

I find it strange, when i know i need to clean shit up, i just really can't be bothered.... so it turns into a mastie.
Dishes? ... screw that *walks to room*
Vacuuming? ... It can wait for awhile
I find when i eventually do get around to the cleaning, i hate it even more.
I think that counts as procrastibation, awesome.

Costume has changed, and been constructed. Instead of what i said earlier, i am now going in a towel transformed into a shirt, and a curtain, changed into a long skirt.
I had to do this because my upper legs are more...... developed? then they were the last time i wore a Coles, calico bag as a skirt (when i was 14/15 i dressed up as sailor moon and wore a blue one). It looked hilarious on, but it ripped right up to where my underwear will be.

On a different note, the other day i was in a computer lab with a friend, and i was bored. So while she was away i started to type the discussion of her experiment/transect.
I won't include it in here as it has potential to offend, but the basis of it is, Dylana (my friend who's report it was) caused the bombing of Hiroshima during WWII.

And is it me, or is David Williams not wearing any pants:

Regardless, i know he certainly isn't here (if you click on it the photo becomes quite large.... and you can see quite a lot of his, -assets) :