Í sînt a face gulas de inimă pentru mîine prînz , şi acesta este haşi art.hot. casă foarte măl.

I had a really good chat with a friend last week about decisions, directions and the daunting task of making life changing choices (new course? new job? new city?). Ever since we spoke I've been thinking a lot about the decisions I've made in my life that have gotten me to the point I'm at today. I'd say I'm about a quarter of the way into my life, though current statistics would peg me at about one third... let's say I'm a quarter of the way into my working life. Actually that doesn't work either, 'cause I'd like to work until my late 60s, so that'd make me about one fifth. Fuck it, one quarter kind of averages it out. Stupid fucken fractions. Fuck off and move to the decimal system. Bastards. Anyway, like I was saying. I've been thinking a lot about life and shit, and I reckon I'm doing alright. I'm appreciative of where I'm from, I'm mostly content with where I am, and I'm eager to see where I will be. Actually fuck. Fucking Americans wave the old imperial system around like it's the king shit. Fuck off miles, fuck off quarts and ounces and feet. While I'm at it, learn how to fucking spell. I hate it when I'm writing something and the Spell Checker commands me to change to American English, even when it's set to Australian. Fuck you Bill Gates, and Fuck The Horse You Rode In On. So yeh. I'll just cruise along where I am for now. If something exciting comes along, sure, I'll give it ago. Otherwise I'll just tough it out on the front and hope that I not only win the battles, but also win the war.

Don't mind me, I'm nuts/tired/trying to cope with the terrible smell emanating from the kitchen.