Nonce

I feel like an utter nonce. It’s five thirty am, and I can’t seem to catch sleep. So, I’m up, trying to voice some random thoughts that are flowing through my brain.

– Feeling like a boss, due to utter lovely person Ned Mayhem leaving a comment on a post I did was very much marred by breakfast with daddy Boyd and the overwhelming desire to go stand outside the sandwich shop and yell at random old people just because everything was annoying, like it always is with my dad.

– Not sleeping is not good. Just ask my state of mind when I finally fell asleep at 10.30 in the morning.

– Eventually waking up and getting the spag bol I had been lusting after was a delight, of course.

– But then crashing again, in front of my telly, and waking up at my usual Twittering hour was not the plan.

– A few lovely e-mails from a few lovely people perked me and my libido up.

– Saucy e-mails make me want to wank. Which I did, and it was mind-bogglingly good. So good, in fact, that it caused me to tweet:

Have you ever come so hard that you weren’t able to move afterwards? #yeahthat

Because I couldn’t, for the life of me, move afterwards. And when I did move, it cost me an enormous effort to do so.

– Watching Buzzcocks is nice, but at least 30 % more so when watching an episode that includes Tim Minchin in some way, shape or form.

– I am now typing this heaping pile of randomness just because I really don’t want to sleep.

Innocent Loverboy can have my sleeps. Take good care of them, ILB, for they are precious.

I don’t want to go to sleep. Sleep brings nightmares about school and things in the past. It hurts.

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