Royal shittings.

The fruit of my night's efforts. In my apathetic stupor I found a golden spraycan and am currently trying my very best to not Spray Everything Now. But I figured we could at least do with a royal toilet.

So here I am, again on the couch. It smells of paint in here, which refuses to get me high but is kind enough to hand me a headache. I really need to pee, but the toilet seat's still wet and I do believe I could do without a golden ass. In that sense, that is. I put open the window to help it dry faster but now I'm so freezing cold I can't really move to check out whether the thing's actually dry yet or not.

Also, it's 3.30am and I could've been smart and slept all this time. FML.