(no subject)
on a scale of 1-nauseated, i'm like a 70. good god. i missed class today (shock me) and it's freezing/pouring. if anyone thinks i'm leaving my house tonight, i regret to inform that you're gravely mistaken. the only way i'm going out is if fucking Jeffrey Hyman a.k.a Joey Ramone comes back from the dead and personally escorts me to wherever it is that my presence is requested. until that happens, you're shit outta luck so please stop texting me every 3.5 seconds.
SRY.
SRY.