I'll tell you what's not interesting, it's the ongoing saga of finding a happy third person to inhabit The Peach. Our newest Peachette is leaving to go study full-time, which is nice, if you like that kind of thing but it leaves us once again with a vacancy and if there's one thing I hate more than not getting along with a housemate is finding a new one.
It's hard to explain just what kind of person I'm looking for. It's easier for Grizelda because she's more easygoing than me, she's holds grudges just about as long as a goldfish does, if she ever gets cranky it's over and done with inside of an hour and then forgotten so completely it's like it never happened at all. I'm a more complicated kettle of fish when it comes it my home. If someone is going to do something bad, and I mean really fucked then I am going to hate you for it, probably for the rest of your life. My good opinion once lost is lost forever, Mr Darcy taught me how do that.
There is a prospective Peachette coming to The Peach tonight to check out the room and to meet Grizelda. I've met her before but that's no guarantee of anything, as Spencer likes to point out, I know a lot of scumbags. I'm fairly certain this woman is not a scumbag but here's the flip side, I might be too much of a scumbag for her. You see she's kind of amazing. She's a racing car driver on the weekends and a corporate superwoman during the week. She is tall, tidy, has waist-length red hair and is related to some kind of secret service combat machine man who might just kill me dead if I do wrong by her. I'm hoping this meeting goes along swimmingly, so swimmingly that nobody calls anybody else a scumbag or winds up dead. Wish me luck.
It's hard to explain just what kind of person I'm looking for. It's easier for Grizelda because she's more easygoing than me, she's holds grudges just about as long as a goldfish does, if she ever gets cranky it's over and done with inside of an hour and then forgotten so completely it's like it never happened at all. I'm a more complicated kettle of fish when it comes it my home. If someone is going to do something bad, and I mean really fucked then I am going to hate you for it, probably for the rest of your life. My good opinion once lost is lost forever, Mr Darcy taught me how do that.
There is a prospective Peachette coming to The Peach tonight to check out the room and to meet Grizelda. I've met her before but that's no guarantee of anything, as Spencer likes to point out, I know a lot of scumbags. I'm fairly certain this woman is not a scumbag but here's the flip side, I might be too much of a scumbag for her. You see she's kind of amazing. She's a racing car driver on the weekends and a corporate superwoman during the week. She is tall, tidy, has waist-length red hair and is related to some kind of secret service combat machine man who might just kill me dead if I do wrong by her. I'm hoping this meeting goes along swimmingly, so swimmingly that nobody calls anybody else a scumbag or winds up dead. Wish me luck.
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