Shut the fuck up, people

I am pretty sure it's Monday. I never did quite get the hang of Mondays.

Anyway, it's Monday, I think. I'm pretty drunk. I just got deposited on my front step and made an attempt at not seeming drunk in front of the parental units. I probably failed miserably.

I keep thinking I'm British but I'm nota ctually British. See, here in America, home of apple pie and buffalo (seriously though I don't think they have buffalo anywhere else) we don't do that silly thing where we spell things like this: "burnt" instead of "burned" and "spelt" instead of "spelled" and "roofs" instead of "roooves." Okay, I totally made that last one up, but the point was that my fingers seemed to be thniknig that I'm British when I'm actually Americans.

Onward and upward.


I'm drunkt (that's like the British form of "drunked" for those who aren't in the know) and we had a lifeguard get-together tonight. J tried to walk through a screen door-- or as he tells it, "I didn't walk THROUGH the closed screen door, because the screen door stopped me." Lol.

Oh man, what the hell am I doing with my life...


Fucking balls. It's Monday.