I am currently buried underneath a mound of blankets/coats/snuggly things, with room enough to poke my head through and my two FREEZING HANDS out to takatakatakatakatakatakataka on Ze Keyboard. It’s something like 70 degrees in this house. FUCK.

A lot of people like being sick because they get out of school, but really, I beg to differ. All I did both yesterday, today, and probably tomorrow is lie around whilst being buried in said blankets/coats/snuggly things that seem to travel with me wherever I wander, watch Doctor Who, and Homestuck.

AKA not much different from my normal weekend routine. Usually I enjoy my weekend routine. But you CANNOT ENJOY WEEKEND ROUTINE when you have a 102.5 fever, congestion, absolutely no appetite, and your limbs feel like they’ve been PETRIFICUS TOTALUS. Seriously. My main way of traveling through the house for the past couple days is scooting down the stairs, stumbling to the computer, and falling asleep on the way there.

&&& I watched Torchwood. I seriously got halfway Day One and then was like “wow okay lesbian makeout session” and kind of shielded my eyes and squirmed uncomfortably then paused it to make nachos, only to throw them away because I didn’t have an appetite. I didn’t continue to watch it. If you read my blog post on Kimye’s baby then you know I felt awk. Oh God andhisholylightningshootingnipples I sound like a homophobe. I’m not homophobic. As a matter of fact, 2/5 of my OTPs are involving menxmen.

MY OTPs (One True Pairingseseseses)

1. Hinny (Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter)

2. Destiel (Dean Winchester and Castiel. Funnily enough I haven’t seen an episode of SPN with Castiel in it yet. But FANFICTION YAY)

3. Deamus (Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan)

4. Tose. Or Ren. (Rose and Doctah Numba 10)


There are two kinds of people in this world. One, the Moffats and Riordans. Two, those who rock back and forth in a corner foaming at the mouth due to said Moffats and Riordans.

*injects special sanity drug. oh, and, er, tylenol/motrin aswell*

Sorry for the takatakatakatakatakataka nonsense. I’m tired so bye-bye mah babes.

P.S Resolution which-ever-I-promised-to-post-erryday isn’t working out 😦 Sorry guise.

x Sabrinaniqua Bon Qui Qui Jones


I Can’t Sleep

Thing The Great Big Man in the Sky Screwed Up When He Made Me #1127: Out of the seven nights a week, I probably stay up for the duration of at least one of them. Why? I’m so naive. If you let me watch a single scary movie– it could be a Disney Channel Halloween special, I guarantee that I will not sleep that night. It doesn’t even have to be scary. It can be Casper the Friendly Ghost. I could be feeling absolutely fabulous right up until my head hits the pillow. Then I think about Casper, AND EVERY SINGLE SCARY STORY CRASHES DOWN ON ME. (Then I spend the night blogging about it.) I keep telling myself “omg Sabrina they’re fake” but even knowing they’re fake doesn’t help. Even if Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki and whoever played the Woman in White in the pilot ep of Supernatural were standing in my room, carrying a notarized document stating that the scary stories are not true, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Actually, I would probably kick anyone who isn’t Jensen Ackles out and proceed to make sure he isn’t Dean Winchester.

It’s like my brain is a toddler. And myself is the mom. And sleep is the broccoli that I’m trying to force down the kid’s throat, and the kid brain kid/brain is doing everything it can to stop it. That includes thinking about the Vashta Nerada, Slenderman, and Samara from The Ring. FUCK YOU BRAIN.
And the worst part is, I can’t like, get up and do something about it. I’ve mentioned my mum a lot in here. She has a strict policy on “bedtimes” and such. Below are The Commandments:
1. Thou shalt go to bed when Mum-Queen decides for you to do so, whether it be six pm or three am.
2. Thou shalt stay in thine’s bed until morning, AKA seven am.
3. Thou shalt not read, write, draw, play Doodle Jump, practice flute, Facebook, blog, text, watch television, or eat during designated sleep hours.
4. If thou turns on the hall light then you shall be incinerated by His Holy Lightning Shooting Nipples.

So like, if I can’t sleep, then she doesn’t just wave her hand flippantly and say “eh, don’t make much noise pls.” NO. Like, if I go to the bathroom one too many times, the woman is up the stairs, pounding on the door, like “GO TO BED, YOU LITTLE BITCHLET.” And if I’m in bed with the light on, reading, she comes up like “Why are you still up, hmm?”

Me: “Because I can’t sleep.”
Mum: “You NEED to.”
Me: *is Sheldon* “If I could, I would. But I can’t, so I shan’t.”
Mum: “THAT’S NOT MY PROBLEM. You need to sit in the dark and play a game called Stareattheceilinguntilslendermanrapesandkillsyouyoufallasleep.”
Me: “NEVARR!!!”
Mum: “Then I must challenge you to… A POKEMON BATTLE!”
Me: 0_o



Me: “the fuck”

Yeaaaup. That’s usually how it goes.

Sleep is for noobs, yo.

x Sabrina