Real life is exceedingly boring.

And I want a job where I don't have to wear such a God-awful uniform that will forever smell like bread, clam chowder, and cardboard boxes. The day I quit is the day I'm throwing all of my shirts into the garbage. Heck, I'm going to have a full-out party that weekend - by then I'll be 21 and can legally go out for ( Read more... )