it is nightly freakout time because i haven't talked to you-know-who in a long time.
shoot me. ozzy, i scored a pistol on your dumbass yet somehow facinating and halarious "what firearm are you" quiz--does that mean i'm a whimp? or am i just sneaky as hell?
so according to my photo teacher i'm horrid at photography and my prints are hideous. She also decided to give me a lousy B on my fucking goddamned essay about this cool photo. And now i hate it
( Read more... )