i really need to stop biting on my lips.
they’re all gross & sore. & it is not attractive.
story of my life
- Mary: Can I use your straightener?
- Me: Why? You have your own...
- Mary: I really have no idea where it is.
- Me: What, fine.
- *goes & get it, then goes to give it to her.
- Mary: Thanks, I really don't know where it is.
- Me: It's right there.
- That was hard....
- *walks away.
- This always happens.
i don't know.
you seem mad at me. but i don’t want to ask. :/
I want more text messages.
1300 more messages is only $10 more.
Seriously. My parents don’t get that a text conversation last more then two messages.
- Me: How am I done with my ice pop before you? You and your stupid sensitive teeth.
- You're a sensitive...thug. *start singing the epik high song, Sensitive Thug.
- Monica: What? That doesn't even make sense. You can't be sensitive and a thug.
- Me (rap/singing): "You're a sensitive thug, a sensitive thug."
- Monica: Doesn't make sense.
- Me: Maybe it's like "Wanna sensitive t--hug, sensitive t--hug." *gansta hands in a hug motion.
- "Wanna sensitive t--hug, sensitive t--hug. Wanna sensitive t--hug, sensitive t--hug."
- Monica (laughing): That's so stupid.
- Me (talking with my mouth full): Mary, when do you want to open your presents? Because ours is awesome amazing.
- Dad: Michelle.
- Me (mouth still full): What?
- Dad: You talk, blohblohblohbloh.
- Me (mouth still full): Dad. Why can't you talk normally?
Driving Test #2
is a success.