shoot me so i don't have to go to school tomorrow
i haven't updated in forever. i'm in a downtime. i miss everyone. i'm so incredibly horny. it's so fucking frustrating. i just want to do the deflowering ceremony already! why can't we get our acts together? why do we only talk about it and do nothing? why can't i see emily already? ahhhhhhh fuck the questions, they're not even worth it. i know all of the answers too. i'm just being a dickhead to everyone, so i'm sorry. i'm really really sad. i'm under tons of stress with my grandfather and i just want it to be summer so i can ride like a crazy spoon on wheels and recieve millions of letters from emily and write millions of letters back. ugh i'm such an asshole/dickhead/everything else bad, as i so clearly expressed to emily. arghhhhhhh(monty python agony)hhhhhhhh. holy crap, i can't believe i remember this off the top of my head. ready?
two households, both alike in dignity,
in fair verona, where we lay our scene,
from ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
from forth the fatal loins of these two foes
a pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
whose misadventured piteous overthrows
doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
the fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
and the continuance of their parents' rage,
which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
the which if you with patient ears attend,
what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
wow. i'm a little fucker who remembers romeo and juliet from the eighth grade.
someone shoot me so i don't have to go to school tomorrow.
two households, both alike in dignity,
in fair verona, where we lay our scene,
from ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
from forth the fatal loins of these two foes
a pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
whose misadventured piteous overthrows
doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
the fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
and the continuance of their parents' rage,
which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
the which if you with patient ears attend,
what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
wow. i'm a little fucker who remembers romeo and juliet from the eighth grade.
someone shoot me so i don't have to go to school tomorrow.