and I my sons, have perfected my own.
being a lazy, sad little poo is doing me no good (shock, horror), so I am going to do a number of siceningly intelligent thugs, and as I do them I am going to write lite bits about the improvement, or lackthereof, in my overall happiness.
NUMERO UN!
I must cleanse my room. because there is nothing more depressing than wandering about in a place that is average at best. and cluttered. I must make perty once again, the boudoir.
2. I must have a shower, a shower of truth. I must wash away all unforgivable sins and consume more tressemme because my god, that shampoo is delicious.
and third,
I must go to a bookshelf, find an amazing book specimen, and bury my nose in it until late december.
I like the sound of this. I do. there are very few times that I actually enjoy the thought of cleaning my room, but you know, one of these times is right now.
and, the next person who mentions how they didn't like my family will obviously not be particularly high on my list of friends. because I fucking never say how much I didn't really like your family, and when I said that, you didn't get angry at me because your an overly nice person.
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