Hey Mr. DJ, let the music take me underground.
Angst!rant warning. You have been warned.
There was supposed to be this picnic today, but the friend planning it was all, "I'll call you back with details," on Tuesday, so when today rolls around and there's still no details I text him, and then he's like, "I told you yesterday!" I'm all, "Nawww, you certainly did not, where is this goddamn lawn-dinner >:|" So he goes all pissy and, "I'm so sick of everyone in this city!" aaand it was just an all around mess. He's just PMSing, maybe, on account of him being one of those girls, but his timing couldn't be worse.
Because, about fifteen minutes prior, I found out my pipes are too big for Eleanor Lamb's needle gun, and my nasty, super-selective OCD decided to go all THOU SHALT NOT GLUE THESE PIECES UNTIL THEY ARE CORRECT D:< on me, so I can't continue until I get new pieces tomorrow, which I won't, so I'll just sit here feeling sorry for myself and beating myself up over every little thing until I'm laying on the floor again. And nobody wants to deal with a goopey puddle of self-loathing Silver. Nu-uh. Not even me.
AND I DON'T HAVE ANY CHOCOLATE IN THE HOUSE BECAUSE MY MOTHER EATS IT ALL.
Bitch-bitch-Whiiiiiiiine...
There was supposed to be this picnic today, but the friend planning it was all, "I'll call you back with details," on Tuesday, so when today rolls around and there's still no details I text him, and then he's like, "I told you yesterday!" I'm all, "Nawww, you certainly did not, where is this goddamn lawn-dinner >:|" So he goes all pissy and, "I'm so sick of everyone in this city!" aaand it was just an all around mess. He's just PMSing, maybe, on account of him being one of those girls, but his timing couldn't be worse.
Because, about fifteen minutes prior, I found out my pipes are too big for Eleanor Lamb's needle gun, and my nasty, super-selective OCD decided to go all THOU SHALT NOT GLUE THESE PIECES UNTIL THEY ARE CORRECT D:< on me, so I can't continue until I get new pieces tomorrow, which I won't, so I'll just sit here feeling sorry for myself and beating myself up over every little thing until I'm laying on the floor again. And nobody wants to deal with a goopey puddle of self-loathing Silver. Nu-uh. Not even me.
AND I DON'T HAVE ANY CHOCOLATE IN THE HOUSE BECAUSE MY MOTHER EATS IT ALL.
Bitch-bitch-Whiiiiiiiine...