Yeah, okay D-bag.
The last few days have been a blast. My replacement boyfriends have been doing a really good job keeping me busy. Don't get me wrong, I love feeding geese, drawing obsceneties on giant rocks, playing in the rain, and long car rides, but I'm ready for him to come home. Really ready. I'm such a faggot.
Lately I've become accustome to lying to my mother about absolutely everything. I swear our relationship is a better one when she doesn't know where I actually am or who I'm with and why. I'm a horrible daughter too. But believe me, It's better this way.
On the way to get food today, a truck two cars ahead of us pulled out infront of another car. After managing to smash the cars rear end completely in, the car fled. Seeing this made me sick to my stomach, and I almost threw up. Not only did it begin to make me worry about others making long trips home, but I'm now officially terrified to start driving.
So in conclusion, root beer can suck it, I'm going to own putt putt next week when I play, and
my boyfriend is going to be really happy when he comes home and finds out I wrote his number on a bench at Chimney Rocks for all of the townie sluts to call.