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I CAN HAS A PET FRISSON

December 18, 2010

HELLO. ‘Tis I, the Magnificent Minimalist. You may call me Wendy. I have a finely honed appreciation for FOCUS and DISCERNMENT.  I appreciate these things very much.  In fact, I appreciate them so much that on alternating blue moons I actually put into practice these skills.  On those days I morph from an Internet-addicted caffeine fiend to a role model of practical, life-affirming, nearly sacred skills.

I rock that much.

Not this kind of rock.

This is a picture of a gray stone. He is NOT a pet rock.

And only occasionally this kind of rocking:

This is a picture of a cowering, befuddled brunette rocking back and forth in the throes of mental anguish.
But like this:

 

This is a picture of a bad ass brunette, hair blowing about in an attractive fashion, rocking out on stage. She is in the spotlight and surrounded by FIRE.

 

Only with more European-style class and a subdued, understated elegance and POISE.

My hobby, vocation, and and on-going pastime (when Facebook isn’t too engrossing and I don’t need to, like, work or something) is decluttering.

Oooh. Oooh. Say it.  DECLUTTER.  Do you have a frisson? ‘Cause I like totally have a frisson. I’m going to put it into my pocket now. Now I have a pet frisson.

What does a pet frisson look like?  Funny you should ask.

This is a frisson:

 

This is a motherfucking frisson.  He's the most adorable creature you've ever witnessed.

His name is Roger.  He likes pockets and also he likes hiding in my cleavage.

Because breasts are warm and soft.

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. Emily permalink
    January 22, 2011 5:15 am

    what the f@*! is a frisson, may I ask? And my breasts are very warm and soft.
    Yes. I am that amazing.

  2. Emily permalink
    January 22, 2011 5:15 am

    🙂

  3. Emily permalink
    January 22, 2011 5:16 am

    I luvz frissons but rocks are EVIL.
    Yes. I am that wise.

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