And I'm stuck here, trying to activate my cell phone, and they really want me to stay on the line, and they are experiencing delays of up to five minutes, and if I just hold on, it'll be fine. This is unacceptable.
And I was told to have the packing slip information ready. What packing slip? There was like 2000000 pieces of paper. And I was not informed one in particular would matter more than the others. Or you'd at least hope it'd be labeled in big letters.
And this guy is making my life easy now that he's here. I appreciate this. And now I'm rambling incoherently. I usually do to these poor people. I feel awful. And now he's telling me not to answer my ringing cell phone. Oye. And he's hot sounding and says stuff like "excellent" in a surfer kind of voice. This is fun. Now I wait twenty minutes for the rest of my phone's programing to be recieved. Okay. That's...neat.
And daddy is going to war with any teachers who dare cross me, I.E., Michne. Which is stryfe causing. Cause that can't be good. And she's gonna be a bitch to me. And that'll be the end of my sanity. Though, it's been doubtable for a while. As I'm sure you've all picked up. On that is.
Soul seek my friends. Soul seek. Not the suckness. The evils of Kazaa prevail. I don't think people should use it for its shittiness. Use soulseek.
And so everytime the phone rings, I just assume it's my father, and he's going to eat me for something I did or didn't do to or for a teacher. Oye.
And I just died in your arms tonight. But that's another story. Speaking of cutting crew, I need a haircut. Must go to the barber's. And soon! Prom!
It's on the fifteenth. I'm getting tuxeed today. Big with the yayness. Makes me excited. I do the happy dance.
Well. Done. Ish.
And with a slight post scriptiness-
Ya'll should stop being upset. I say we make with the bigones being bigones. I think that's how it's spelt. And no pun intended in retrospect. Rock.