#housingtwo

[wxrshiipedhasmoved-blog]

housingtwo

STEP INTO MY CANDY STORE

“I’m sorry but do I look like the representative of the Loser Outreach Program? Go find another place to sit, geek. I think that Rodney has a couple of seats open at the Geek Squad HQ”

[notimminent]

starter call ;; housingtwo

     “ Have you figured out what happened to have           the A/C die all of a sudden? I’ve had four different           rooms call to complain and ask what we’re doing           to fix it. Any news? “

[iixtemictli]

                                    ▾ housingtwo wants to make a deal;                                                      hey, look at me, I’m a middle aged                                                      (dead) white woman !

     ❝ Hey, honey; does this dress make me look fat ?  What about the seams,           here, near my underarms -- are they too distracting, too obtrusive ?  Does it           make it look like I’m possessed by an omniscient, otherworldly higher           lifeform ?  I can’t decide, myself -- I might just return the dress. It’s really not           working out. ❞  

     Her unsteady legs, long leeched of calcium, porous as limestone, wobble           unsteadily at his command, infinite, all encapsulating knowledge of everything           that was, is and shall be drawing blanks in the areas of anatomy, of how to           balance in even the most prudish of heels.  He flings the body at the dining           table in a dire need to latch onto something for balance before he topples           completely, gasping and cackling at his insight as he hoists himself onto a           chair. ❝ I had to walk all the way down those pathetic, rickety stairs on           broken femurs !  If you’re going to keep a corpse, I’ve got some words of           advice, for you, ❞   he slurs, saliva twinged green, like the film of an egg yolk,           dribbling from the corners of his vocal orifice. 

     Catching his hideous faux-pas and daintily raising a hand to smear it over           his borrowed cheek in an effort to swipe it away, he continues, ❝ invest in           some embalming.  The second I leave this thing, it’s all going back to dust --           see, you left the moisture in, which lead to bloating, which cracked the skin,           and now this thing’s ruined.  I returned its elasticity for the time being, but           nothing can revert a stupid mistake !  I admit, though, ❞   he says, holding up his           left hand, missing a finger at the second knuckle, ❝ I may have caused some ...           collateral damage.  You know what ?  Just send me the bill. ❞  He laughs.

[rdxwson-archived-blog]

[ housingtwo ] [ liked ]

♥ -- “I don’t understand. I don’t           necessarily see a problem.”

[sillagex]

{2;}

ellebete

housingtwo

    "Is it bad to memorize the entirety of 'No Diggity'?"

[centetl]

        > run housingtwo.exe

   Subject is identified as Mister Norman Bates, twenty-six years old, white, about 6'1"--I'd also say that there is an entire list of details concerning business conduct that I could go into, but that's nothing of importance, I think.  Perhaps you'd like to be reminded that your maintenance bill for the hotel's electricity is due--I'm checking the records, you see, and everything seems so immaculately up to date, I'm utilizing my software to assume that you've forgotten about this.

[traumeriinarchive]

Sweet dreams are made of this,

☁ housingtwo

who am I to disagree? 

(☾☆) — As the young woman walked through the city her white dress swayed in the wind. In one hand was a paper bag filled with groceries. The other one appeared to be occupied with pushing a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. Her stroll had been peaceful until one of her apples fell from her bag. Before she bent down to pick it up it appeared someone had already done that for her. ❝Why, thank you stranger.❞