| A purse on the thigh is worth two in the hand. I think. |
[Jul. 19th, 2004|01:04 am] |
The truth is, I don't like purses. Never have. Give me a bookbag, a backpack, a pocket. Sure, I see purses I like or whatever, but I hate carrying them. That's why I started this thing out with that little Yasmena hand pursey thing. I don't mind that.
But combine it's utilitarianism with the burlesqiness of Thursday's ruffle-butt panties, and you have Benefit's Chickster.
I'm going to be upfront by telling you it's unlikely more than a credit card and a $20 bill are going to fit before the thing starts slipping down your leg. But I'm game.
Benefit Chickster
FYI, I had this whole cute little story about the GWB ChickenPal all typed out and my LiveJournal appie crashed. Now I'm not so sure I feel like sharing. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 10th, 2004|02:43 pm] |
Hi, I'm Krissy.
I live in Santa Monica.
I make toys called biggerCritters.
I have a bunny rabbit.
Awful Tara and I have become friends mostly via IM, though we also email one another about a million times a day. We bonded early about people we don't like. Let me rephrase. We've formed mutual opinions about what we think some people we don't actually know are like - and then don't like them based on that. But that's good enough for us.
We're not always like that. But we think we're really funny when we are.
I don't really mean that.
Well, I kind of do. I would like to go on record as saying that on two occasions I have been nice in person to one of those people.
Moving on, Awful Tara runs Plain Mabel. You can buy my biggerCritters there too. Especially since no one else is lately.
I do not like to write about myself. This is becoming an increasing issue in my life right now.
But I do like to write about stuff I want to buy. So go back to Awful Cufflinks and put us both out of our misery.
P.S. I promise to write more about myself later if asked. Or if something interesting in my life happens.
P.P.S. It would be great if you would send me stuff I write about. Well, really, any stuff. Especially if it smells like baked goods. And is delivered by a cute boy.
P.P.P.S> (How fourth grade is this?) I'm running out of things to write about. Submit some shit already. Thanks. |
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