Hoooooow????
My parents bought me the desk.
THEY BOUGHT THE DESK. WHAT.
Oh, right. Lest I forget, backstory is the most important part of a tale. Besides words, anyway, and some semblance of plot, BUT REGARDLESS. My parents have been avoiding letting me have a desk for years. YEARS. Every desk I've bought has been a cheap-ass piece of junk that lasts for about a year and then loses function: no drawers, too small, to specialized, etc. Then I found the PERFECT desk. PERFECT in EVERY FUCKING WAY. So I planned to buy it. Told them, too, and they said not to. BUT! Today, I came home from work and TA-DAH! They bought it.
Wow, that paragraph was the least cohesive thing I've written in days, but oh well. MOVING ON.
My dad called it a REWARD for switching rooms with my brother, AND DAMN, am I happy.
Right. End incoherency.
BASIC THEME: my dorkish happiness is overflowing.
THEY BOUGHT THE DESK. WHAT.
Oh, right. Lest I forget, backstory is the most important part of a tale. Besides words, anyway, and some semblance of plot, BUT REGARDLESS. My parents have been avoiding letting me have a desk for years. YEARS. Every desk I've bought has been a cheap-ass piece of junk that lasts for about a year and then loses function: no drawers, too small, to specialized, etc. Then I found the PERFECT desk. PERFECT in EVERY FUCKING WAY. So I planned to buy it. Told them, too, and they said not to. BUT! Today, I came home from work and TA-DAH! They bought it.
Wow, that paragraph was the least cohesive thing I've written in days, but oh well. MOVING ON.
My dad called it a REWARD for switching rooms with my brother, AND DAMN, am I happy.
Right. End incoherency.
BASIC THEME: my dorkish happiness is overflowing.