(no subject)
You know, every year I sit in front of my house for the Fourth of July parade and watch 30 fire trucks, the high school marching band, Clinton county Democrats and Republicans, sundry pageant queens, Pro-life marchers, the Twirl-N-Talent Bitch Brigade (better known as the Dynamite competition team), and a lawn chair corps as they walk by, and I just realize how horribly pathetically small my town truly is.
Happy Independence Day, Americans. Exercise your rights and privileges.
In the meanwhile, I go to Heather's on Monday and I haven't even though about packing.
Packing = clothes = the bar in my closet that holds all of the my clothes has broken. Having nowhere to put my clothes, they are laying on my bed leaving me to sleep on the couch. Jeez.
Happy Independence Day, Americans. Exercise your rights and privileges.
In the meanwhile, I go to Heather's on Monday and I haven't even though about packing.
Packing = clothes = the bar in my closet that holds all of the my clothes has broken. Having nowhere to put my clothes, they are laying on my bed leaving me to sleep on the couch. Jeez.