God, mother. You are driving me batshit insane.

I'm sitting there alone eating, looking fairly miserable I bet. You ramble away like always. I respond with "hmm" and "yeah" and other things that should make it obvious I don't want to talk. You continue rambling about pointless things. I continue wanting to scream at you to SHUT THE HELL UP.

Finally ( Read more... )

AND WE'RE GONA GET LIKE A FOOT alriiiiiight ( Read more... )

My nine year old brother comes home from the school library with books on Nordic countries ( Read more... )