if i could describe the sensation of abject panic without revealing the wildly unflattering personal details at the heart of the attack, i would, but i’m lost for words. digression: the hot-cold air-blower here is a psychotic bastard and my peeps are becoming dessicated. my peeps, dammit.
so i fight panic with denial and mad bargaining, and within minutes (well, a hundred twenty of them anyway) i am back to my peeps and froststroke and heatbite and … dammit my peeps. i’ll have to eat the entire exposed tray within the next few minutes or all’s lost.
and as to that panic, i have hatched a wacky plan and much hilarity will ensue, so cue the applause sign and cut to commercial, gotta pay the bills on this sitcom.
Gotta save the peeps. I always thought those things would be indestructible, but then again I’ve never actually touched one.
the peeps are still about the chewiest thing i can chew yet, and since they are pure unadulterated evil (sugar. i meant sugar) well it gets me through the day.