"I Got Nothing To Say, But If You Pay Me I Can Play the Fool"

Or I can do it for free, whatever works.

Whatever creative juices may have lived in my brain space have dripped out through the holes in my skull where my Maths homework incinerated my eyes, leaving my eye sockets free for such things as dripping juice. And how did my Maths homework do this? Just by looking at me. I can feel it now. It's got crazy eyes. How I Met Your Mother style.


So, I've been sitting here for over half an hour attempting to write something and instead having it end as roadkill somewhere. Or, saved as a draft where it may one day be resurrected and turned into decent blog material. We can hope.

Oh and the remnant of those creative juices, being as dumb as I am these days, somehow missed the gaping holes at the forefront of my skull, and are currently bleeding from my ears.

So anyway, I'm just going to throw it out there, but, I thought shopping was hell before... (I'm fussy, okay? It's not my fault, it's the damn designers) but now. I cannot escape the uneasy glare of Robert Pattinson as Edward freaking Cullen, or other characters from that book/movie, wherever I go. There's a massive freaking poster of he and Bella in our school library! I understand the attraction, I do. It's a story that appeals to the romanticist inside every female. But, please, take a look at Robert Pattinson. Really, take a look. He was hot in Harry Potter, I'll give you that. BUT HE IS NOT ATTRACTIVE NOW. What is with his hair, and his face, and his goddamn expressions??? That's right, I hate Twilight. Feel free to hate on me, bitchez.

I could bitch about Twilight for hours, but my mind is going the same way as those creative juices and I have one bitch of a headache. Today is the last day of holidays and the looming horror of another term of school has me contemplating death by any means possible. Like, you know, suicide.

I must go, Biology is calling out for me in a querulous voice, determined to whittle away the last ounces of sanity I have left. Goodbye, dear internetz friendz. I pray to see thee again, if I pass through the trials of high school unscathed enough to return on the morrow.

Uh, yeah.

Night.

P.S. If you want to Shake It, for the love of God do it The Maine way, not Metro Station style (links are to the music videos on YouTube).