Stratford makes me bloggy
I know I CONSTANTLY complain about how cold my parents keep their house when I'm here, but like. I'm sitting next to a fire. A FIRE. And I'm still cold. It's just not right!
ohhh my god my brain has turned to slush and I have completely forgotten why I came here to post in the first place. My dad's watching something on TV with a douchey guy and it's really not helping, just mashing my brain into a further mushy state. It's almost more like liquid now, it's so crushed.
...and then a bunch of kids started dancing to a rapping piece of bread. I can't take this TV O_O. I have to go to bed. It's probably -5C up there. I'll figure out what I wanted to say, and if it still seems interesting, I'll come back. (No I won't)
ohhh my god my brain has turned to slush and I have completely forgotten why I came here to post in the first place. My dad's watching something on TV with a douchey guy and it's really not helping, just mashing my brain into a further mushy state. It's almost more like liquid now, it's so crushed.
...and then a bunch of kids started dancing to a rapping piece of bread. I can't take this TV O_O. I have to go to bed. It's probably -5C up there. I'll figure out what I wanted to say, and if it still seems interesting, I'll come back. (No I won't)