Another Saturday, another sponge
People have to stop having 21st birthday parties. If they don't, my life will become nothing more than planning the next cake to outdo the last.
And this is no way to live life, I tell you. I must stop trying to render the world in sponge, and go outside beyond margarine and greaseproof paper. Ah well, 'tomorrow is another day'... as Gone With The Wind would have it (though I doubt Scarlett O'Hara ever had this problem. Mind you, I've never had to worry about keeping a large Southern estate from marauding Yankees either, so I suppose we're even.).