Wednesday, March 07, 2007

'Isn't it so me? Isn't it more me than it's ever been?'

I wanted:

Crossed with:

I got:
Blame my horrendous forlocked brow if you will; I'll continue to shake my fist at the heavens and curse the day I offended the Gods by murdering Alison Moyet's Weak in the Presence of Beauty at Christmas Kareoke. Or something. The list is getting a bit long for me to carry around by now.

1 comment:

Elisa said...

Haha, brilliant! Thanks Lucy, I needed a laugh this morning.