In a new place that is new and scary and a place
So...yeah. I moved. I'm in a big scary new house now. It's big and scary. And new. ...And it's a house.
Okay, I lied, it's not really big. It's averageish.
Also, I made a comic about it, because I have no life. To be more specific, I made a comic about moving to it. To be even more specific, I made a comic about the initial process of moving to it. And to be even more specific still, I made a comic with two girls in it. And one of them? One of them...is your mother. ...Though, actually, I meant to say my mother. Sorry about that. Sometimes my fingers spaz out on the keyboard and make my type bizarre things that...are weird. And...okay, I don't really know where I'm going with this. I think I'll just stop now.
Oh, also, I lied again. It's not actually a house. IT'S A TRANSFORMER.
Oh, wait, no. Never mind. It is a house.
And in case you were going to ask, no, I wasn't drunk or high or hyper or riddled with AIDS when I typed this journal up. I'm just weird awesome.
I must say, though, the avatar I'm using for this entry would probably be a lot more hilarious whilst drunk or high. Not that I agree with being drunk or high. They're difficult, and I find it hard to relate to them. Also, I don't like their parents. SIN AND...BAD STUFF. Or something. But, yeah, that avatar is whack.
THIS JOURNAL IS OVER.
Okay, I lied, it's not really big. It's averageish.
Also, I made a comic about it, because I have no life. To be more specific, I made a comic about moving to it. To be even more specific, I made a comic about the initial process of moving to it. And to be even more specific still, I made a comic with two girls in it. And one of them? One of them...is your mother. ...Though, actually, I meant to say my mother. Sorry about that. Sometimes my fingers spaz out on the keyboard and make my type bizarre things that...are weird. And...okay, I don't really know where I'm going with this. I think I'll just stop now.
Oh, also, I lied again. It's not actually a house. IT'S A TRANSFORMER.
Oh, wait, no. Never mind. It is a house.
And in case you were going to ask, no, I wasn't drunk or high or hyper or riddled with AIDS when I typed this journal up. I'm just weird awesome.
I must say, though, the avatar I'm using for this entry would probably be a lot more hilarious whilst drunk or high. Not that I agree with being drunk or high. They're difficult, and I find it hard to relate to them. Also, I don't like their parents. SIN AND...BAD STUFF. Or something. But, yeah, that avatar is whack.
THIS JOURNAL IS OVER.