It Must-O Be The Best-O

I am so going to be more careful with my skin from now on. These stitches on my hand are such a bummer - especially since my sister keeps making jokes about how I'm 'emo' and 'keep cutting myself'.
Aha. Ahaha. NOT FUNNY, CATHERINE!
This is weird topic to bring up, but just for the record, I have so never wanted to die. Oh, except for once:

Jen: Catherine, can I borrow a jacket?
Catherine: Sure, here you go (hands jacket that has 'Musto' written on the back)
Jen: (reads) What's 'Musto'?
Catherine: Oh, that's just the name of the brand
Jacki: Well then, it must-o be the best-o. Hahaha!

(dead silence)

Jacki: Did I say that out loud?
Catherine: Yes

See what I mean? Yeah. Except not really, because that joke was awesome.
So hey, apparently it's New Years Eve in a couple of days. Is that right? Apparently. Did you guys hear that? You probably did - it's pretty much everywhere. Anyway, I hate New Years Eve. I do. I really do. I am decidedly anti New Years Eve. Ugh. Horrible. It's stressful, crowded, expensive and totally anti-climactic. I mean, we live in Sydney; there are fireworks here at least once a fortnight. IT'S NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL!
Wow, look how crazy I am getting about this. Weird. But still. All I'm saying is that Hugh Hefner was right when he called it Amateurs Night - it's way cooler to go out on any of the other 364 nights in a year.
Hmm. That is probably the only thing Hugh Hefner and I will ever agree on. Unless Hugh Hefner is secretly gay for Wentworth Miller, which to be honest seems kind of unlikely.

Speaking of Wentworth Miller and New Years Eve, I wonder if anyone can guess how many times I've mentioned The Love Of My Life on this blog in the past year. Anyone? Anyone? Whoever guesses correctly will win my respect. Yeah. The prize would be cooler if not for the fact that I am unemployed and living at home with my Mummy. Have at it!