In Which Eric Kripke is a fucking asshole.
This entry was originally posted at http://fairlight.dreamwidth.org/25978.ht
Seattle is really, really grey. It's darker than San Francisco gets actually.
This building has no personality. Everything's glass and wood and open spaces and plants. And modern art. (Sandy's father would totally fucking hate it.)
Most of these people have no personality. (Except in the sense that piranhas do.)
I can't read the guy that Suze is playing hardball with at all, but he is really fucking hot and I think he thinks I'm her assistant. (Yes, I am sitting here thinking dirty thoughts about a guy who is probably closer to Susie's age than mine. You can laugh all you want, but fuck it, I'm bored here.)
Mrs. Gracen is still fucking creepy. I always want to put my sunglasses on so she can't look into my eyes. What is she doing here anyway?
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