the ib play with possibly the world's worst tagline is go. just like the thunderbirds. after three months of writing, critical lambasting, red pens and bodily fluids (blood, sweat, tears, etc.), the bastard is off the ground. very much like a seaplane: up, albeit looking rather silly and ungainly and not particularly successful at landing in choppy conditions. bleh. the cast is good, thankfully, and though i am tired everything is momentarily peachy.

and as for me, what do i regret? i regret choosing my devart name when i was twelve.