Weariness-induced-vacuouness-inspired-fluff

Marshmallows... mmmmmmmmmmmm. I love them. Soft and squishy and just sweet enough. If they were a gender stereotype they'd be girls. I wonder if that's why none of my brothers took to them as I did. In fact, I haven't met any men who like marshmallows. Or at least confess to liking them. Would I want to meet them? Maybe not. I wouldn't have to share then :

Came home from work dog-tired and not wanting to cook. Which is saying something because some evenings I come home and spend a great deal of time cooking. Today all I did was sit like a lump and wish wistfully that a plate of food, good tasty food, would appear before me by magic. I wouldn't even have minded if a pair of hands had brought it to me. Instead, I tortured myself by going through the recipes section on the Guardian and drooling with tired eyes while my tummy sent up feeble protests at such inhumanity. I was obliged to give it some pasta finally to shut it up.

The Magnolias are in bloom! And Cherry Blossoms! They look so pretty! Soon the Roses will be here, vibrant, glossy-petalled, huge.

The boss recommends, and I recommend in turn, Marillion! I really loved their sound, go listen to them!