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bliumchikSpring is here. It's fainting season. I don't mind because it heralds the end of curl-up-and-die season. I don't know if it's the pollen that goes "all your knees are belong to us" or what. Around this time 250 years ago, maidens were swooning into young men's arms all over the place. Alas, we must make do with melting into small puddles on the side walk and gabbling about h/d slash and Ioan Gruffud.
The moral of this story is: next time you see a small puddle in your path, walk around it. Don't get girl-goo on your sneakers.
The moral of this story is: next time you see a small puddle in your path, walk around it. Don't get girl-goo on your sneakers.
