AND then, Northern Ireland invades Iceland, with all the drunken debauchery one might expect, even after they lose 2-1.
-insert almost indeiciferable accent- WE´RE FROM NORTHERN IRELAND, BUT WE LOVE ICELAND. chug.
NICE.
its okay with me. im going. someday.
today i will try and squeeze a kennitela, or, arbitrary big brother racking number, out of the registry, so i can pretend to study icelandic. pretend only because i feel this wont fly easily, because remember, there´s no reasons for Canadians to be here. why couldn´t I be Polish? i fib.
maybe its because ive been eating primarily mjólk (thick, sour milk like substance) on cereal that ive been having daily bodily shutdowns. or maybe its all the air here. its hard to be hardcore in any sense of the word, even as a Canadian, when all I could do is sleep sleep sleep.
need some more shark oil, apparently.
knitting is off to a really bad effing start. Vala? eugh.
the Hungarian architect seems to enjoy meeting nightly now to practice english conversational skills, which, well, you can imagine how smoothly that goes over with someone like me. cohereance !!!!!!! im learning it.
less out of body experiences, less nausea, and more minerals. and productivity. and, .... well thats about sufficient.
finaLLy, thanks to Ingimar, I saw the tail end of a fun fun fun preformance by jakobinarina (sans accents) last night, and yeah, they are something quite inline with what i feel a certain few, if not someone, would love to break a move to.
green tea and peaches, baby.
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