Monday, December 19, 2011

Let's have a shovel-buying party, shall we?

Sometimes I just want to go to the store, pick out a shovel, pay for it, drive to a field somewhere, dig a hole using said shovel, lower myself into the hole, sit down, and stay there. Only sometimes.

Guess what? Highschool is good, very very good.

Christmas vacation cannot come soon enough.

My math teacher is probably seriously regretting making me his student of the month. I've fallen quite short of expectations, if I dare say.

Some people are just awesome. Some people, you just look at them and instantaneously know, without even meeting them, that they are awesome. I know a couple of those people.

I am not one of those people.

If you go to Yale, you will be in a branch of like 10 people. That would make your marriage options extremely limited. Gosh darn it.

Not that I would get into Yale anyway, of course.

Really, I'm just glad I have some amazing friends that prevent me from going to the store, picking out a shovel, paying for it, driving to a field somewhere, digging a hole using said shovel, lowering myself into the hole, sitting down, and staying there.

Scratch that. I just remembered I'm over 15 years old and still have no clue which pedal makes the car go.

Guess I'll be walking to the field.


Poppies are my favorite flowers.
Have a lovely evening.
Or morning or afternoon or night or life.

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