so that's how it's going to be
It started snowing the other day. It's been overcast ever since, so for the past three days I've been unable to tell the time without the aid of my watch. Incidentally, on the same day it began to snow, my hot apple cider slipped out of my hand and within seconds my steamy drink was pooled on my keyboard. I mopped it up with a wet paper towel, not really putting much forethought into what would happen if I left such a sticky beverage to dry in the rifts of my keyboard. Much like the majority of movies released in the past few years, I think it's relatively easy to see where this train of thought is headed.
Last night my mom and I drove out to Starbucks. Spending time with my mom has become emotionally exhausting, now that she treats me with such underlying contempt. Once we got back home I was anxious to retreat upstairs, change into my pajamas, and partake in diary-reading and other such activities that allow the mind to coast. However, soon thereafter I received a call from Resa asking if I wanted to go with her and a few of our mutual friends to play Dance Dance Revolution.
Suddenly I have lost any desire to continue with the current topic thread. Two of the aforementioned mutual friends who I will call "Rick" and "Ben," because those are their names and I wish to exploit their privacy, didn't return Resa's phone call as they said they would, and never arrived at the arcade, either. Needless to say, it thoroughly burnt Resa's cookies. Regardless, fun ensued for most of the night, and we eventually left when a mass of folk with intelligence levels equal to that of a picket fence took over the machine and it became apparent that they wouldn't share. Nick and Pat played a round beforehand, though, and Nick played a few additional rounds with Resa and then me. They all shocked the monkey, whereas I was a no-talent ass clown. Acting foolishly is often -- in the words of our President -- "misunderestimated." Somehow I think that lessens his credibility, like when Pat stuck a sticker on his forehead that said something about a free bunch of bananas.
what kinda pet are you?
quiz made by muna.
Contrary to the claim made by the results of this quiz, I am not popular, nor am I "very, very active."
Once when I was gazing out the window on a drive back home, I saw some graffiti scrawled onto a fence bordering the highway -- "fuzzy night," it read.
Today I saw a truck that had a message printed in large letters adorning it:
www.golamers.com
?!
So that's how it's going to be.
Anyway. It's nearing midnight, and given a lack of anything better to do, I'm going to go sleep now.
G'night.