[ no we're not gonna call out everyone on their shit tonight]
I was like SHITZ0R!!1 when mom told me that I needed to go to school during flex to make up some spanish tests. Nonetheless, I could not have been more content squeaking down the hallway in my Dunk-Lows. In between the beautiful music of my shoe-soles, the school day was essentially uneventful. The AP Luncheon went presumably awful. Choices include cheese pizza and pepperoni pizza. I felt disgruntled, glum, and cross that none of these ooze mongers saw the vision in a cheeseless pizza with onions and mushrooms.
Furthermore, I squeaked back to the cafeteria where Michael Watson and I studied for our AP Gov't test. That got boring, as it has a tendency to do, and I so I brightened the mood and spoke of this analogy. F5: The Finger of God:: F7: The Finger of Anna. hahah
More squeaking ensued until I made it to Adams' class which felt like the 107 steps to the firing squad. Multiple choice raped me in its own tendency. I made my four essays most enjoyable however. One was purely regurgitation, the next used akward terminology and a pirated phrase "brick-a-brack", the third was an analogy comparing media's three roles in politics to the Gastro-intestinal tract [bowels, enzymes, and duodenum], and the third was a helpless series of half-statements and vague allusions.
I wished Eddie a happy camping trip and also good luck in the Pinewood Derby. I returned home to find my kitten [Ashes] nestled like a sugarplum in my "armoir." My other cat [Tai-kwan-do] was fornicating again. Slut. And so to celebrate, Dad made some spinach pasta which I washed down with a chilled RedBull.
Know what bothers me? At the AP luncheon, I asked if I could have my soda poured into my empty [portable] coffee mug for all of the following reasons.
1. I crave slightly warm soda
2. I abhor icecubes [I'm far too Euro to use such!]
3. I despise watered down refreshments
4. I like to avoid using styrofome [murdered the spelling]
5. There are absolutely no elephants hereabouts
And you know what they said? NO
I am dedicating this portion of the post to Schyler N. Gately for being so thoughtful as to give me a huge orange bag for my birthday.
I can do all things through this bag. There is no load too cumbersome and no object too large to fit within the depths of such a purse. I could tote one of the [smaller] Hawaiian islands, 50 pounds of President William Howard Taft's own body fat, and enough grain to feed all of the cows in a slaughterhouse before their thankless and untimely deaths. Which, consequently, is the exact same amount of grain that would be required to feed all the starving and nonstarving people of the Democratic-Republic of Congo for a week.
So again, thank you Schyler. Its visionary. Idealic. But however much so, there's one thing I cannot place into this large orange sack....and that's probably Schyler's Ego.......ooooooooooooooo!!1 BURN! haha jk jk Barrel of Fun Barrel of Fun.
RedBull.......I need a nap. How does that work!? [maybe because AMP is better]
annnnnnnnd IM OFF!!! [to do nothing!]
Furthermore, I squeaked back to the cafeteria where Michael Watson and I studied for our AP Gov't test. That got boring, as it has a tendency to do, and I so I brightened the mood and spoke of this analogy. F5: The Finger of God:: F7: The Finger of Anna. hahah
More squeaking ensued until I made it to Adams' class which felt like the 107 steps to the firing squad. Multiple choice raped me in its own tendency. I made my four essays most enjoyable however. One was purely regurgitation, the next used akward terminology and a pirated phrase "brick-a-brack", the third was an analogy comparing media's three roles in politics to the Gastro-intestinal tract [bowels, enzymes, and duodenum], and the third was a helpless series of half-statements and vague allusions.
I wished Eddie a happy camping trip and also good luck in the Pinewood Derby. I returned home to find my kitten [Ashes] nestled like a sugarplum in my "armoir." My other cat [Tai-kwan-do] was fornicating again. Slut. And so to celebrate, Dad made some spinach pasta which I washed down with a chilled RedBull.
Know what bothers me? At the AP luncheon, I asked if I could have my soda poured into my empty [portable] coffee mug for all of the following reasons.
1. I crave slightly warm soda
2. I abhor icecubes [I'm far too Euro to use such!]
3. I despise watered down refreshments
4. I like to avoid using styrofome [murdered the spelling]
5. There are absolutely no elephants hereabouts
And you know what they said? NO
I am dedicating this portion of the post to Schyler N. Gately for being so thoughtful as to give me a huge orange bag for my birthday.
I can do all things through this bag. There is no load too cumbersome and no object too large to fit within the depths of such a purse. I could tote one of the [smaller] Hawaiian islands, 50 pounds of President William Howard Taft's own body fat, and enough grain to feed all of the cows in a slaughterhouse before their thankless and untimely deaths. Which, consequently, is the exact same amount of grain that would be required to feed all the starving and nonstarving people of the Democratic-Republic of Congo for a week.
So again, thank you Schyler. Its visionary. Idealic. But however much so, there's one thing I cannot place into this large orange sack....and that's probably Schyler's Ego.......ooooooooooooooo!!1 BURN! haha jk jk Barrel of Fun Barrel of Fun.
RedBull.......I need a nap. How does that work!? [maybe because AMP is better]
annnnnnnnd IM OFF!!! [to do nothing!]