Men

In my time and experience, I have noticed one thing -- Men are rather annoying. Why is this? It's quite simply, they are unable to allow the truth to pass through their lips unless you have the energy to pressure them into it. Or, possibly, set them on fire.

Now, I ask, why is it so difficult for them to speak the truth? Women do it easily. And as I've always said, the truth is much more fun. Good or bad.

Do they fear the result? Do they fear the truth? Are they just plain stupid? All questions that I have pondered from time to time. I've come to the conclusion that the answer is D, all of the above.

But in the end, no matter the answer, I've learned to take advantage of the problem. It's always there, and it's so much fun to watch them squirm.

Things to Remember

Ale from Sherwood is not so good.
The wine in the Americas is way too strong.
Find where to get a vodka float.
Research hangover cure spell.

Spent the evening with Nadia, enjoying wine and ale. For a highly Christian village, those Puritans know how to make some strong wine. I'm sure they'll probably say that God likes it that way or some other nonsense babble that makes me want to set them on fire.

An enjoyable evening, all things considering. Though I'm beginning to believe that I am Nadia's bearer of bad news, as every time we sit and chat, I seem to be handing it to her on a big plate.

Shame, really. I like the girl. I think she's got potential. Once she rids herself of... stuff.

Right now though, I just hope her hangover is as bad as mine. *mutter*

Secrets, secrets, secrets. I love secrets. Moreso, I love them when I know them. I just can't help myself. Little tidbits of information that can make or break a person just make me come alive.

I can just see people worrying that I know the things I do. Waiting, nervously, to see if I decide to make their lives even more miserable. It's that look that is best. That "Oh shit, will she or won't she?" that makes me just sit back and laugh to myself, or aloud, whichever.

Enough of that for now...

Yesterday, I spent the better part of the day... with Joel. And I didn't set him on fire once. That was very strange. Though the thought did cross my mind once or ten times. Just to see what he would do. Or really, just to get a laugh out of him running to dive into the waterfall to put out his hair.

Instead, we sat on the beach of my island for a while and then set out with the intent to throw fire at everyone else. While fun, I would still rather see Joel run to put his hair out again. I'll have to save that for later, when I'm not being entertained.

The Gift

I seem to have a gift for getting myself into trouble. I'm quite good at it. Sometimes I don't even have to try hard. As such, I must spread the wealth with every opportunity and sit back and watch my masterpiece as it slowly explodes.
That's the best part.

It's like painting the perfect picture....

...and then blowing it up with a canon. Such pretty fire it makes.

I had too much money, can you believe that? Wait, it gets better...

I bought an island. Yep. An island. I named it the Isle of Malia. Fitting, isn't it? It's got a great waterfall and pool. I built a small hut with a hammock, and it's just like home. Now I can tan without leaving my house!

I keep saying I'm going to have a beach party. I should probably do that one of these days.

For now I'm content to lay under my palm tree.

I don't know why, after this long, I felt the need to put something here. A long time ago, when Israfel left, I thought that something such as this would be good to relieve the pain, but I refused to let anyone see me that way. I stayed to myself, waiting for Her to speak to me, to tell me thing would be fine.

She never did.

But still, things became fine on their own. I still miss Israfel. Don't get me wrong. I think that part of me refuses to let go. That's ok, I guess. It reminds me of what not to do again. And it lets me get back to my old self.

That's where the fun begins.

I'm all about the fun. Not only that, but I'm all about my fun. That is, of course, what is most important. And I get fussy when I have no fun. A little entertainment is all I ask. It's not difficult. I'm not picky.

Just ask Joel.