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We're talking moron deaths here, people. We're talking the kind of death where people start seeing your ghost and telling the people from Biography that you were kind of transparent and your hand was frozen in the "facepalm" position.
(Because I'm too lazy to write my own content today. There's some brewing in my head, but it'll be a while before it achieves English.)
- Location:office of doom
- Mood:
giggly - Music:Tori Amos - "Winter"
Comments
You know, given how directors generally won't let anyone except the occasional Certified Geek wear regular glasses lest they reflect the crew behind the camera, I'm a little puzzled by the plethora of sunglasses. Sunglasses of justice, sunglasses of coolness, sunglasses of retro, sunglasses of allergy-to-sunlight...
I was actually given empty frames to wear on stage once. During the stretch when I was acting blind because my rigid gas-permeable contacts popped out too easily. :: is eversograteful for toric soft lenses :: That was...surreal.