You Blah Me To Tears
Hey! I just pressed about 17teen different buttons at once! Now my screen is...really weird looking. I better fix this.
Oh good. It was fixed by immediately panicking...and now...it's unfixed. Well - I tell you what. I'll ignore it for now, and fix it later, okee doke?
So, I'm broke, right? I quit my job without finding a new one first and I deserve it. But yet, salvation comes awkwardly and painfully! My car was totaled, and my dad went to scrape the innards out of it. In doing so, he found a literal bajillion of bottle cans to return, AND my federal tax return (which is 18teen dollars) (heh heh. I'm writing numbers funny, and there's nothing you can do about it!). Now I'm beyond wealthy. The lap of luxury has pleasant squish upon my bum.
I really feel like I'm returning to my pre-college, irresponsibility days. Where I lived like a king, without a care in the wrld - except I'm broker. I'm even driving the same car!
P.S. the buick I'm driving doesn't brake all that well. It kind of floats up to stop signs, or else swerves to the right and then to the check-it check-it left.
P.P.S. Never, ever, under any circumstances drive in front of me.
P.P.S.S. Oo! How could I forget! Will DesRochers rear-ended me the other day. I figured he wouldn't want a lot of people to know, so I'm posting it on my online diary! The secret will stay safe there.
P.P.P.S.S. I'm actually entirely sure Will doesn't care. He's also in Minnesota.
P.P.P.S.S.S. LALALALALALA!
Oh good. It was fixed by immediately panicking...and now...it's unfixed. Well - I tell you what. I'll ignore it for now, and fix it later, okee doke?
So, I'm broke, right? I quit my job without finding a new one first and I deserve it. But yet, salvation comes awkwardly and painfully! My car was totaled, and my dad went to scrape the innards out of it. In doing so, he found a literal bajillion of bottle cans to return, AND my federal tax return (which is 18teen dollars) (heh heh. I'm writing numbers funny, and there's nothing you can do about it!). Now I'm beyond wealthy. The lap of luxury has pleasant squish upon my bum.
I really feel like I'm returning to my pre-college, irresponsibility days. Where I lived like a king, without a care in the wrld - except I'm broker. I'm even driving the same car!
P.S. the buick I'm driving doesn't brake all that well. It kind of floats up to stop signs, or else swerves to the right and then to the check-it check-it left.
P.P.S. Never, ever, under any circumstances drive in front of me.
P.P.S.S. Oo! How could I forget! Will DesRochers rear-ended me the other day. I figured he wouldn't want a lot of people to know, so I'm posting it on my online diary! The secret will stay safe there.
P.P.P.S.S. I'm actually entirely sure Will doesn't care. He's also in Minnesota.
P.P.P.S.S.S. LALALALALALA!