We don't listen to people who don't like us.
No matter what happens over the next few weeks, know this: I have a brand spankin' new espresso machine next to my bed, and you don't. Unless you do. In which case, I have one now too. And if you don't, come to my room. I'll make you espresso.
From the welcome-back-to-second-grade department: what does it mean when the boy you like walks by you at fourth meal, smiles, throws a balled-up straw wrapper at your head, and then leaves? Maybe he was on his way to get a cootie shot, or just back from dodgeball. Either way, I kinda liked it.
Finally, I bought lots of camera batteries online, and less than 30 seconds later found camera batteries, in my camera box, hiding under styrofoam packing material. I will never need camera batteries again. I still have no film.
The end.
From the welcome-back-to-second-grade department: what does it mean when the boy you like walks by you at fourth meal, smiles, throws a balled-up straw wrapper at your head, and then leaves? Maybe he was on his way to get a cootie shot, or just back from dodgeball. Either way, I kinda liked it.
Finally, I bought lots of camera batteries online, and less than 30 seconds later found camera batteries, in my camera box, hiding under styrofoam packing material. I will never need camera batteries again. I still have no film.
The end.