Labels: exams, quotes, school

It is presently 14 minutes past midnight and I’m still awake despite the facts: a.) I have school tomorrow morning which is bad because b.) I can’t sleep for just four hours and not resemble a walking zombie which is pretty contradictory cause c.) I love to sleep. Must have been my chocolate intake.

-start of slightly graphic part of entry-

I think I’m still high on that chocolate bar I had about... fourteen hours ago. (It’s already half past twelve, I’m trying to keep it down in here) And in that fourteen hours – and still counting – period of chocolate intoxication, Richelle and I found a sexgod in our school. No wait; scratch that, not a sexgod, THE sexgod, the ultimate sexgod. In mine and Richelle’s eyes, he is the hottest, most bangable guy in school. And I’m not telling you who it is, so bite me. (Okay, just to clear things up, we do not have a crush on him – Richelle’s got Shammy for Pete Wentz’s sake – we just find him ridiculously good eye candy.

We’re probably gonna gang up on him and rape him someday. He’s just so bangable. WHY?!

Chels: Hey [insert name here], we’re gonna rape you one day.
Chelle: Yeap, someday, someday.
Mr. Bangable: Ha-ha. Yeah sure, nice.

How can a guy have that much sex appeal? Good heavens. Okay, so before I start going into a full-length, fully-fledged entry of how bangable this guy is, I’m gonna stop. [insert name here], if you are reading this, don’t flatter yourself too much. But if you let me live inside your closet, I promise not to go gaga over your sexgodism. Okay, will try not to go gaga.

(For Richelle’s take on sexgodism, click here.)

-end of slightly graphic part of entry-

“..and boredom loves me during BM.”
–Richelle Ret

Absolutely. It’s a one-sided affair but I couldn’t agree more. In light of the monotony, Chelle and I listed down our favorite things that start with ‘S’. Her top three were: Shammy, snowflakes & spaghetti. And to be honest, I wholly protest against the top three propaganda—wait, that would mean I’m protesting against myself seeing as I came up with the whole ‘top three’ thing. Right. Whatever. So anyway, I can think up of a lot of my favorite ‘S’ things hands down. My top three would be... Saturdays, stars and sexgods. HAHA. I’m joking. Replace that last one with showers. Saturdays, stars and showers. Lovely.

Mine and Richelle’s entire list goes like this though– no wait, scratch that, this isn’t the entire list; we’re still working on it. Okay, here’s what we got so far:

Chelsea and Richelle’s Favorite Things That Start With S

stars –R & C
Shammy - R
sleeping - C
spaghetti, red - R
spaghetti, white - C
snow – C
socks, colored – R & C
smoothies – R & C
sundaes – R
sausages – C
Sundays – C & R
the sea –R & C
summer – R & C
steak – C & R
salmon, smoked – C
sleeping – C
swimming – R & C
*** ** **** – C & R
songs – R & C
showers – R & C
the sky – C & R
snowflakes - R
salami – C
sandwiches, bacon – C
Skittles - C
sunshine – C& R
sleeping – C
shoes – R & C
snogging – R & C
singing –R & C
the sky at night– C & R
serendipity - C
sarcasm – C
smusic – R & C
swriting – R & C
sinstant noodles – C

and of course,

our sexgod – C & R
 

Oh, and did I mention sleeping? Speaking of which, it’s 1:21 am. I have about... five hours left in bed. Anything else you want to add to that list? Leave it in the cbox, thanks very mucho. I’m gonna do my list some justice, call it a night and go to bed.

Good dawn, world. This day has been strange—holy cheesecake! I forgot another ‘s’ word! SUSHI. Sushi is the shizz, I kid you not. Okay, now I’m hungry.

Vamanos!

Labels: lists, people, random, school, sexgods

Labels: F.R.I.E.N.D.S., people, qoutes, TV shows

On weekend that changed everything.


Erase, erase, those memories with you are far gone and I’m glad for that.
I’ve left this town and don’t expect me back.

*

It’s 1:41 on Saturday morning. Not a very good time to be awake, but the night has been yet again bursting with emotional trauma and I really doubt I’ll be getting any more than four hours of sleep tonight.

Still, there’s no harm in trying. (No point in it either, to be fair.)

*

I’ll find it. I’ll find it someday. It could even be right here, right now, talking to me on MSN, telling me to get to bed before because I have school in the morning. Damn. I have school in the morning. Oh, sigh.

I’ll best be off. Till the next episode then fellas.

Good morning world, have a great weekend. 

Labels: people, photos, thoughts, weekends

And to the one & only Amadeus Izaq S. Dumlao;
my hubuhuhbuhuhhbukuluhuguhuh buddy!
(Seriously man, I’ve forgotten what all that stood for)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AWESOMENESS.
(It’s your birthday, so I’m gonna cut you some slack and humor you.)
You know you’re epic. (In your own little world, that is)
You can be such a dickhole at times, but heck; you’re still “epic”.
Normally, I’d say something clever here but... my brain’s a little woozy from all your awesomeness.
And dude, hang in there.
Life can be friggin’ hard,
but the trick is trying harder than it.
And you know we’re always here for you, I just hope you frigging remember that, always.
Love,
your hubuhuhbuhuhhbukuluhuguhuhujushuhusu buddy. 

Labels: birthdays, people

Oh, if you haven’t read Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events, Book the Eleventh, The Grim Grotto, then the title of this entry will make none whatsoever sense to your brain.

Okay, so it’s three minutes past 8 and I am miles, no, light years away from conquering my newfound mountain of homework. Such a malicious little thing, growing there ever so sinisterly in dark corners of my school things like poisonous fungi manifolding along a cave wall, threatening to poison some poor traveller, concocting devious plans on how to put me in the agony of finishing off two essays (which aren’t even in English), a project on nutrients, a hundred and one questions and answers, one or two sets of comprehensions, Math corrections and a composition in a span of 9 hours.

Oh dear, dear me. What tangled ball of labour have I gotten myself into now?

Oh right, that’s what.

Unwillingly being an all-time procrastinator and high class bum, I put off my BM homework for more than a month and now it’s back and has reared its nasty head. No, not one, but THREE of its heads! It’s like, the Cerberus of all homework with razor sharp fangs and nasty drool you can’t get off of you for days! For now. I don’t want to know the amount of homework they’re going to heap on our shoulders next sem. (As if the weight of our hearts aren’t heavy enough already.)

If I don’t finish up this homework by Friday, I am dead. Like, Freddy-Kruger-slashed-me-with-his-five-claws dead. Like, trapped-inside-a-glass-box-with-about-fifty-or-so-angry-brain-eating-zombies-trying-to-smash-the-glass dead. Or like, being-chased-by-hundreds-of-cannibalistic-humans-with-rage-disorder-and-the-only-way-to-escape-is-by-getting-into-that-boat-over-there-but-it’s-too-damn-far-and-I-don’t-think-I’m-gonna-make-it dead. Or like—ANYWAY, you get the picture.

If I don’t get this done asa-freaking-p, my BM teacher’s gonna chase me down with a chainsaw tomorrow and all I have to save myself is a pair of chopsticks and a Basement Jaxx record. Nice choice of weaponry, Chelsea, that’s REALLY gonna save you from a deranged old lady with a CHAINSAW. She’s probably going to chase you down ruthlessly, slice and dice you up into little pieces of sushi, feed you to her evil crocodiles in her evil swamp, grab the crocodiles’ poop, burn the poop and then use the ash as war paint on her face.

Oh, my God! Seeing as I’ve only managed to finish one tenth of all her homework, I gotta get my rear end outta here! I know! I’ll dig my way through the ground with my chopstick, all the way to Greenland, fake my identity as the daughter of an Irish whaler who has a knack for pink lemonade and colored stripey socks and has a bald spot and spends a majority of her time alone in her bedroom all day, playing the Basement Jaxx record over and over and over again, singing, “You are my destiny, JAIHOOOOOO! JAIHOOOOOOOOOO!” in a very loud voice.

No. NO WAY! I don’t wanna be some daughter of an Irish whaler who has a knack for pink lemonade and colored stripy socks and spends a majority of her time alone in her bedroom all day, playing the Basement Jaxx record over and over and over again, singing, “You are my destiny, JAIHOOOOOO! JAIHOOOOOOOOOO!” in a very loud voice!!!!  NO SIR, my life may suck like balls right now but no way am I gonna be some Irish teenager in a wig. No way.

So I think I’m gonna do my homework now. It’s already 20 minutes past 9. HOLY FUDGECAKE WITH ALMONDS ON TOP!!! IS THAT THE TIME? AAARRGHHHHHHHH!

Labels: homework, random, school, wild imaginings

The last three days of school have certainly been a 2^nd degree riot worth articulating about. This is gonna be a long entry, brace yourselves.

Saturday, the 9^th of April

The field trip last weekend was glorious fun. We actually went over to the Ministry of Defence, not the MOE. Either way, the trip was wicked cool. It was all such a bore at first; we started off looking at posters, with polite interest, explaining with intricate detail how our crap reaches the ocean from our toilet bowl. That and feigning interest with a 3D replica of mud. (Well, it was actually more like a 3D replica of the ground and what’s beneath; I think it was supposed to demonstrate how rainwater and animal faeces get anywhere.) Okay, so nobody really wants to learn about sewage and cesspools now, do we?

After half an hour of looking at semi-captivating articles on drainage systems and model houses, we headed out back of the MOD building, where, guess what, people were fly-foxing and abseiling and rock climbing! It was so wicked. Everyone else and I got on the flying fox (we were about 3 floors high) and it really wicked. I’ve never been on the flying fox, like ever, ever, ever in my entire life, and I most certainly didn’t expect that to change that morning. It was a massive shame though, that the flying fox wasn’t that high, the higher, the more thrilling it is.

Oh, and some douche got stuck on the flying fox; dude was dangling about 150 metres off the ground for more or less 15 minutes, lucky bastard. Ha-ha. I think his pulley got stuck when he jumped off the edge (didn’t he get a nasty wedgie?) and had to hang up there, several feet off the ground for ages. Good for him. Wish I got stuck up there; must’ve been so wicked cool. Definitely a Sony Moment of the Day, according to Matt.

The equipment for abseiling and fly-foxing (is that even the right term, fly-foxing?) was a little chafing though. It’s like this underwear sort of gear thing you put like shorts where they hook the line onto you and stuff. I mean on girls it looks perfectly fine but on the boys? It rather emphasizes their... unmentionables. [shudders] SO ANYWAY...

I went abseiling too! In fact, I was the first in line to abseil. Took me ages to set up cause I kept whacking my head by accident on the thousands of beams in the flying fox building thingy but the abseiling dudes-in-charge were really nice and tried not cause my premature death, thanks so much!

Dude: Okay, you’re good now, just jump off the edge.
Chels: What? Just jump off it?
Dude: Yeah, just go, jump!
Chels: What? No way! I’m freaked out now. What if the line breaks? What if I slip? What if I fall on that poor guy down below?
Dude: Relax, you’ll be fine. Now go! [pushes Chels off]
Chels: HOLY GODDDDDDDDD!!!!

*

Chels: Oh hey, this isn’t half bad... hey, I can see the mall from here!

*

[after being lowered about 4 feet]

Dude: Let go off the rope!
Chels: WHAT?
Dude: Let go, take your hands off the rope!
Chels: WHAT?? Let go of the rope, are you kidding me?!
Dude: Let go!
Chels: [lets go]
Dude: Well, do you feel safe?
Chels: Hmmm... Let’s see, I’m hanging about 250 metres of the ground and could plunge to my death down below any second now should this rope break. Yeap, definitely safe, uh-huh, no doubt at all, safe, safe, safe dangling here, yup! I’m fine, no worries!

*

Chels: Someone had better be taking a photo of this! I don’t do this abseiling business everyday! [stomach growls] I’m hungry. Abseiling makes you hungry. I want food. GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!

The abseiling was brilliant. Richelle went after me and Branden bought us some burgers from KFC right after. (THANKS BRANDEN, YOU’RE AWESOME. SINGAPORE ISN’T SINKING.) Boy, abseiling makes me hungry.

“Yeah, that was really cool, just imagine if—Chelsea, are you talking to your food again?” 
–Richelle

I... have this weird habit of talking to my food before I eat it. Don’t look at me like I’m a loony, I’m sure something’s wrong with you too. Ha-ha-ha.

So after kind-of-lunch, we hung out at this cool (not literally, the sun was pretty angry at me or something that day, I was burning in the heat... that would explain my sudden change in skin color) garden thing outside the MOD building while waiting for the rest of the tenth years to finish off fly-foxing slash abseiling slash rock climbing.

And then we were confined inside the huge bus. It was cold inside, can’t complain. After everyone else came around, we set off back to school. It was wicked. It’s not like you get to do all these really cool rides everyday right? Maybe if we be good kids, we’ll get to go sky diving, parasailing and bungee jumping next. Keep your fingers crossed for that one, you lot. Indeedy-do, it was a gloriously wicked school day.

Monday, the 11^th of April

Nothing too substantial. Oh wait, except for the road accident involving my brother’s 12-year-old bestfriend and his mom. And a series of unfortunate events within the Chemistry lab.

So my bro’s bestfriend, Lee, and his mom were crossing the road from Supa Save and like yeah. A second too early, a second too late, and we all know what happens. There were police and an ambulance and all the red ‘no crossing’ tape hitched everywhere and Izaq said there was blood on the road.

Cataclysmic disaster. Now before you guys freak out and launch into a full-length speech about how to safely cross a road with over speeding cars without causing a accidentally ending up in a hospital morgue, let me just tell you that... Lee’s only got a fractured shoulder and I think his mom’s doing fine so point of 60-word sentence: nobody’s gonna die.

Goodness, I can just imagine the school paying someone to dress up as Barney and give the elementary kids a talk about crossing the road.

Barney: Okay kids, now remember, look both ways before you cross and make sure have an adult with you. Okay kids?
Kids: Yes, Barney!
Barney: [turns into a banana] YAY, now let’s go do the peanut butter jelly time dance! IT’S PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME, PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME! WAIYEA WAIYEA WAIYEA!! [insert rest of lyrics here]

Yeah. Bizarre. SO ANYWAY...

Our class had Chemistry practicals at 3:30 in the afternoon which meant 3 solid hours of hanging out at Mamih, talking about a lot of things in particular, cramming some last-minute Chemistry notes on cations and anions into my head and constantly bursting into laughter at Mickko & Izaq’s anecdotes while simultaneously getting lost in the maelstrom of thoughts inside my own head. FUN.

After hours of whiling the time away, I came to learn one thing about the service at Mamih. You know how it’s really, really irksome how the waiters never show up unless you call them? Everytime I go there for lunch after school, they never come around unless you call them. And sometimes, when you call them, they won’t even show any signs of hearing you.

We’re not in New York and this is not some street where you frantically call out for a cab and they ignore you. The service can be so terrible, my mates and I actually had to bring the dishes someone I don’t even know ate off of back into the kitchen for them because NO ONE bothered showing up to clear our table. What the hell?

So anyway... back to my point. They never show up when you need em to. They show up when you don’t need them to! Since no one bothered to come clear up the plates on our table after we ate, we moved to another table. And guess what? The bloody waiter shows up. Makes you want to go, “HELLO? WE’RE DONE! WE WERE RIGHT THERE? AND YOU NEVER SHOWED UP? WE HAD TO GET THE DIRTY DISHES TO THE KITCHEN OURSELVES?” Geez Louise. And don’t even get me started about the food! I found weevils in my fried rice. Appalling.

BUT ANYWAY... we got back to school and I made it to the practicals 5 minutes late. We were to have a practical test and we had to mix all these chemicals to produce such pretty, pretty colors, figure out which cation’s which and try not to flunk the whole thing single-handedly.

The coolest part was when I accidentally poured some unknown chemical into an open wound on my middle finger. It was quite funny now that I think of it.

Chels: OW HOLY GOD, OWWWWW. SHIT, I GOT SOME CHEMICAL INTO MY WOUND! IT BURNS! Ohcrapohcrapohcrap, it’s turning purple! Holy God, is this normal?
Izaq: That’s not normal.
Chels: AAAARRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

*

Izaq: Don’t worry too much. They’re probably just gonna amputate your middle finger.
Rafi: It’s just one finger riiight?
Chels: JUST ONE FINGER? I need this finger! How am I supposed to play guitar? I haven’t even learned piano yet! How am I supposed to react when someone pisses me off and my middle finger is non-existant! Okay, maybe I can use my other middle finger, but that’s not the point! I can’t lose this finger!
Izaq: And it’s not too bad. It’s just gonna swell and turn purple and spread to the rest of your body and cause your premature death.
Chels: You’re. Not. Helping.

I totally freaked out on the spot. My finger was burning and it really was turning purple! So I did the first thing that came to mind. Suck the poison slash chemical out. Whaaaaat? I saw Samuel Jackson do it on this poor kid who got bitten by snake in Snakes On a Plane so you can’t argue. So I shoved my chemically contaminated finger in my mouth, sucked as hard as I could and spat it back out into the chemically contaminated sink.

Seeing as I’m still alive, foam isn’t gushing out of my mouth and my middle finger is intact and hasn’t mutated yet, it must have worked. Not that it really saved me. I mean what if it was just saltwater? (Epic fail.) But hey, this proves I know what to do when infected with toxic substances, yay, someone award me a prize, I’m wicked. I feel like I should be on Lost or something.

Anyway.

There were many more epic failures after that performed by a few other douche nozzles in class. Rafi threw away my chemical concoction we were supposed to be saving for the discussion. Qawi smashed about a couple or so testubes. And so did Matt. And Koh. And a few others. Geez. If scientists are so smart, why can’t they make up some sort of unbreakable test tube, for goodness sake? It should be fireproof, smashproof, foolproof, Izaqproof, the works!

So the practicals ended with many a disaster, but twas fun all the same.

Tuesday, the 12^th of April

School was great today, I’d give it a... 8 out of 10. And the reason behind it getting 8 out of 10 isn’t even related to school. I can’t mention it here for all the world to see but heck, I’m certain you’ll catch me gazing off into space with a goofy smile plastered on my face when I think of it.

We had an English test, a lesson on Ionic Bonding, a lecture on our delinquent behaviour in between classes (the amount of racket and noise emitted by our class tends to reach up to 500 decibels when triggered and I must say it hasn’t impressed teachers in the least bit), a discussion on the latest Biology test (scored a B+, not bad), another lecture on Ionic Bonding (which I daresay, rather intriguing) and an hour with a teacher who really can go on forever talking about things, just on and on and on and on and on, you wanna out a sock, no, two socks in her mouth!

And we were given these souvenirs for taking part in the National Day affairs. Guess what we got?

[souvenirs are being handed out]

Chels: I’m starving...
Richelle: Me too.
Chels: Remember when they used to give out food during National Day practice?
Richelle: Yeah. Ahhhh...
Chels: Free food everyday, oh wow. Oh hey, what’s the souvenir? [opens box] I bet it’s a clock... it’s a......... plate. A PLATE? Oh goodness, the irony of it all! I ask for food and I get a plate... with no food!

Nope, not a clock. Nor food vouchers. No, not even food, itself. We were given... plates. BLOODY ORNAMENTAL PLATES, I TELL YOU. Ages and ages of playing hide and seek with the angry sun for two months and burning in the unbearable heat resulting in several fainting spells and severe alteration of skin tone and all we get for reparation is a bloody plate we can’t even eat on! Hello, maintenance? I think the world’s broken. Yes, again. [sigh] It’s not MY fault! What do you mean it can’t be fixed?! It HAS to be fixed! Are you kidding me? Oh bloody hell.

Thank you government, I’ve always wanted a plate. A plate I’m not allowed to eat on. Yeap, haven’t got enough of these at home, no sir. 

Labels: goofin' off, people, quotes, rants, school, things that piss me off

Chelsea notices Justeen isn’t wearing his necktie.

“Dude, where’s your tie?” asks Chelsea.
“It’s in my bag. Husaini’s gone, no one’s gonna tell me off for not wearing it now, whooohooo!” replies Justeen.
“Wow, huh, not wearing your necktie, that’s sooooo rebellious,” taunts Mickko.
“Yeah, wow, big deal,” mocks Chelsea.
“Wanna see rebellious? THIS is rebellious!” says Mickko and takes off his pants to reveal four-leaf clover print boxers.
“DUDE! PLEASE!!!” shouts Justeen.
“MICKKO! PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON!!!!” shouts Chelsea, incredulous, while several passers-by laugh in amusement.

It seems chaos has chosen to reside in our school for the meantime.

*

School yesterday was a sordid affair. The day started off pretty unreal too; walking to school I was greeted by an overenthusiastic Mickko and Justeen telling me that Teacher Husaini’s* been sacked. Not that I didn’t see this coming or that it makes any significant difference in my life, school-wise, but heck, Mickko and Justeen were going nuts about his unlamented demise.

Simply, Husaini was the school’s last line of so-called defence (since Ronnie left last year) in the endless vendetta waged between students and teachers in my school. And now that’s he’s gone, who knows all the trouble we kids can get into now that the most feared teacher’s gone, and possibly for good?

But anyway, he’s never bothered me much (I don’t give him reason to in the first place) and I must say I’ll miss his Lardo presence in the school.

Today, body pains are back with vengeance. I can barely bend my back, it actually hurts to laugh, my joints are killing me and the abrasion on my finger has only just stopped bleeding. Holy goodness, even my ass hurts and God knows I didn’t use my ass to actually tug. Oh yes, we had tug-of-war yesterday during PE. Out of 5 exhausting rounds, my team lost 4 times. Massive shame. But at the least we won once and it was rather fun. If you can call getting dragged across the rough ground and getting practically your entire body sore fun.

We won the fourth time because I prayed. My prayer sort of went like this: Dear God, give us the strength and power to overcome the other very much lard-ridden team and win this round. Please, oh please. Amen. Not a very polite appeal to heaven considering the way I dissed the opposing team but heck, it worked. Prayers, indeed, are miracles.

We’re going on an “educational” field trip to the Ministry of Education Saturday, should be a slightly fun. I’ve always wanted to go there, considering the fact that Aikks and I plotted to incinerate the place to Hades with blocks of C4 back in November last year. We had quite a heavy grudge on the MOE back then. Oh, good times.

Henceforth, I end this entry. Oh, by the way, I got Joe the laptop back. Oh hell yeah, hell yeah. It’s like payday’s came two weeks early. Oh heck yes.

*Husaini’s the 9^th grade BM teacher, I had him last year. He’s got quite a nasty reputation in the school for his notorious and unorthodox methods of punishment for the academically dysfunctional which, oftentimes, has the main goal of shoving heaps and heaps of humiliation on the poor student, he’ll resemble a Dumpster of shame. Possibly one of the most feared teachers of all time at my school. He’s not always that brash though, he can be quite a joy at times and is, in fact, a horny bastard. He’s cool.

Labels: people, school, teachers

I feel so low at the bottom of the food chain right now. It’s a Saturday night and I’m sitting at home online, watching a TV series on YouTube which follows the endeavors of several women quite unhappy with their present weight, attempting to lose weight in a span of 3 weeks or so while constantly getting nagged at by my dear brother to get off the computer.

Well if my laptop was with me right now, I wouldn’t be hogging the bloody desktop now would I? Actually, this is just one of my state-of-the-art, recently devised schemes at getting my laptop back. I’d use up the computer too much that will incessantly reduce my brother to begging on his hands and knees for my parents to give me my dear laptop back. That and constantly blasting loud music (I’ve actually moved my speakers and woofer into the room since I can’t hear a thing with the old speakers – honestly, they’d feel right at home in some museum dedicated to the collection of ancient and particularly astute technology) in their room that would tick them so much that they would actually want to return Joe. Honestly. I’ve just about rebuilt my playlist on this computer and I am, without a doubt, killing the memory space. I just want my laptop back okay, geez.

Anyway, back to my feeling like a 3^rd degree piece of turd. At this hour, any regular Saturday, my mates and I would most probably be chilling at some discreet area outside the mall just having a good time without ever needing cash. Around the bridges, swimming pool spots, fountains. I was actually supposed to go out and watch Wolverine with Qawi and the guys today (it was his birthday yesterday, happy birthday again love) but most unfortunately, I am still under house-arrest. Oh, joy.

Things cannot possibly get any worse, and no, I’m not asking for it to get worse. School’s been pretty mediocre, homework, tests, the regular As and Bs showing up somehow on my papers in bright red ink with several other things in between. As for me, if you were to ask me how I’m doing I would say… I’m hovering between the lines of utterly-desolate-sometimes-feeling-the-need-to-get-shot-I-will-not-be-missed-anyway and the lines of I-guess-I’m-fine-except-for-these-little-chest-pains-and-being-grounded-business. Gee.

I’d best be off, still can’t shake the feeling of being lifeless out here, slowly rotting my insides on this wooden chair. But at least I have Mayday Parade and Fall Out Boy accompanying me through these sick and lowly times. Goodnight, all. 

Labels: update, weekends