Are you there still, readers? It’s me, the blogger.
Nah nah, have you been listening to them crows? I haven’t been sacrificed to apease the the Gods of Wine and Rot(yet), nor was I faceless, anonymous, magic girl to begin with,like Jaqen H’gar(I just saw Game of Thrones s02e10. A girl loves him. A girl will stalk him. A girl has no honor.) Or other countless, more glorious preferably deaths, reasons behind my disappearance you probably, (desperately) hopefully, you gave thought to.
It was my stupid fucking internet connection. Which hasn’t been fixed yet. And I’m stealing someone else’s for a while, thank you very much.
OVER TWO WEEKS.
AND SOME OF YOU ARE STILL HERE. OR SO THE STATS SAY. I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I COULD EVER LOVE H’GAR AND THAT IS THE TRUTH.
At first, I was going crazy, thinking of all the decades blowing by me, people moving on, daily stats falling down, books I’m missing, reviews too and fucking shucks. So I did exercise. Not a lot by your standars, mind you, but mine. And I’m glad to say that while I thirst for those days I lost to this insufferable rains and network connections, my boobs are big(ha! finally!), stomach is eh… healthy and calves can run like nobody’s beeswax but mine and the dog or asshole or bee that could be chasing me. And I can do those crunches on the floor with hands behind my head and crap or whatever they’re called. In short, I look hot. I hope. I believeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Believe in yourselfff! And you’ll be the dragons and conquerors and shit.
I also managed to read some books, although there were days when I’d go without them. *gasp* Hold your wildfire, axes and pitchforks respectively, for now. Until I’ve established proper connection. My favorite of the books I read is Bleed Like Me by Christa Desir.
And the reviews, mama mia! they be piling up. To be written, that is. And oh shit. So many already pubnlished books I was supposed to have reviewed in the last week and one before that- three I can think of off the top of my head. If you’re reading this publishers(a girl can dream), do find it in your heart to forgive is dishonorable girl.
I also saw a cute guy. Who laughs at me. For no reason. Asshole.
What be up in the reading circles and those beyond? Tell a girl. A girl begs. A girl is not afraid to fall down on a reader’s legs to bessech a reader, if only a reader would deign to send her pictures of a reader’s feet. A girl is not into feet. Not in a prurient fashion, if you know what I mean. A reader musn’t misunderstand a girl.
Now, a girl pleads farewell.
A girl must go. And think of ways to bring a reader back. Away goes a girl…
I swear she is not attacked by the White Walkers. Or dire wolves. Or you know, the Lannister’s, Tyrell’s, Baratheon’s, Stark’s, Tully’s, Greyjoy’s et cetra. A girl looks forward to you and Season 3. (Despite the fact that the err… you-know-what-dear-notkids scenes make me want to turn celibate.)
(WHY ISN’T JOFFREY DEAD YET? WHY?)
Just you wait until my fingers get to work. As in, I’ll write many reviews and not like kill someone *cough*brat*cough* with these claws for nails that I’ve got.