Brother brought his happy bus-sized horde crashing through my front door, and they sprawled across the carpets occupying both my living and dining room altogether.

No wonder I had an anxiety attack last night, trying to sleep.

Maybe. I am not used to having too many chatty human beings crowded in tight spaces, leaving me all panicky and suddenly I have butterfingers and sweaty palms, it's like I'm meeting God or something. Plus, I was in my Benggali suit the whole damn day.

Daddy wouldn't let me a chance to change out from them even when he asked me and Mummy out for dinner at Kentucky last night. So I was trotting (literally) in the hot hot suit eating chicken, with nosey mofos staring at me like I'm a runaway Singh bride or something more ludicrous.

Yeah, right. Hi. My name is Mutton. Mutton Kaur. My dad's name is Gurmit Singh.




*LAUGHS*



Annimal came for a sleepover last night, so we ended up in a movie marathon which lasted for nearly four hours. *snorts*

And then I tried to get myself to sleep. Which was extremely hard because my head was playing a re-run of an old woman walking with a basketball from The Grudge I watched with the boys. Damn these attacks.

I had to force myself to imagine painting colours on the white old woman's face with red circles on the cheeks and lipstick before trying to admire my masterpiece which ended up looking more frightening than at first, looking like a demented circus clown like the one in SAW, I scared myself to sleep.

Eventually.

And I woke up today, with my hair all over my face, and some in my mouth, I think I might have swallowed a clump. I'm waiting for a hairball to be excreted, because now my tummy's not feeling too well.





P.S: "Ain't nothing but a thing." What is that? It is nothing, but something? Or it's something, but it's nothing, but it's not. What the hell. I'm confused. What is that?

P.P.S: Misses.

the girl who never grew up,
Million Dollar Mutton