UGHHHHH!!!! I totally never miss class! I'm out of gas, Aubrey took the motorcycle and left his car which is probably FULL of fucking gas, but I can't find his keys ANYWHERE. He probably has all his keys on one keyring. He's gonna get it when he gets home. I'm shoving those keys right up his keyhole. Hmmmm.... probably won't exactly turn him on.
He just got me a new credit card. I can't use it because his is maxed-out (I'm on his account). WTF could he spend $500 on? Gas. Yep, gas. I'm starting a revolt. REVOLT! REVOLT! Eh... people won't do that because they'll be afraid losing something... like they're damn SUV. If you have an SUV... get rid of it and buy a Suzuki. It gets 35mi./gal. I know, I know. They probably attract the ladies, huh. Not if you're going to be spending all your date money on picking her up.
That just reminded me of something that happened to me a couple of weekends ago. I was going down the highway, minding my own business, and this dude totally freaked me out by honking at me. I turned to look and he stuck his tongue out and wiggled it at me. GROSS. He was driving a van fit for ten, probably had a wife, and probably had ten kids. Why the fuck would a dude have a van if he didn't have kids? He wasn't Mexican, either. Nasty fucker. I flashed him my ring and he left me alone. Probably thought I was giving him the finger, which would have made more sense to him, anyway.
I took pics of Aubrey in the tub. As I was getting the camera, be covered his weenie with bubbles because he knew that I would post them. So, I didn't take any pics of him waist-down... what would be the damn point? Don't pay attention to the dirty tub. I usually clean it once a week, but I haven't had time. You're probably thinking of why I'm not cleaning it now. Dammit! I just don't want to!Since I took them anyway, I might-as-well post them. And why do I have to be so damn technical at writing. It's just a damn blog! I AM changing my major to English. Damn good jobs out there. Besides, painting class is pissing me the fuck off. I have tons of brushes and I remember that just one of them costed me fucking fifteen dollars. I don't even use the bitch.
AND DAMMIT! Why are those fuckers upstairs always fighting about? Creak Creak CREAK across the shittin' ceiling all fucking day long.