Oct, 31st, 2010

Hello! I'm Andy! I just realized that a blog may be the possibly best choice for a teenager ever, because you know how whenever you're talking in a group of friends everyone is always talking over each other, and you have to, like, scream to be heard? Well, if you're reading this, you can't interrupt, so ha ha!
So, yes, the parents are out having dinner at some place to make them feel young again, and taking four-EV-er, but I don't mind. It's kind of comforting, you know, when you get some measure of evidence that your parents still like each other. I came back from the party early, 'cause it turns out that fighting with your friend over the pitcher of punch isn't such a wise move when you're wearing a white shirt.
So, you know how I never let anyone in our house, like, ever, because of parent rules? For those thinking we're infested by man-eating burmese tusk rats, I thought I'd describe the place to you. It's pretty small, a small kitchen, living room, bathroom, two bedrooms, and that's it! Lots or boring pastel colors, and some peeling paint, but what's the point of wasting good money to make it look undepressing? It's not like we live in the place, right? We have those sort of flat, lowish ceilings, and those bare lightbulbs, that're epic fay-yuhl, let me say! The one for the bathroom just went out. How creepy is it to go to the bathroom by flashlight-light? I think I'll wait till we get a new bulb.
Oh, and our windows are crap too. There's this one window in the bathroom that is, like, super-glued open, or something, so there's this constant winter chill running through the house, and we all have to wear sweaters if we want to even be reasonably warm. No wonder this house was so cheap, eh? Dad said it was still a rare price, but I think it's the best the seller could raise it too.
And there go the bedroom lights! Yes, I know you don't need lights to sleep, but sometimes I like to read. Yes, I can read, for those of you who weren't aware of the fact. And I have so much crap on my floors(don't tell mum and dad, they told me to clean it yesterday) that I'll probably trip and break my neck, like, only eight zillions times till I reach my bed.
And, yes, there goes the living room light. So I'm typing in the dark. Well, except for the monitor light, obviously. How can it be that all the bulbs in the batch were faulty? Cheap? Not cheaper than any of the others. Some mad, prankster bulb maker? I wouldn't rule that out entirely. Stranger things have happened. But I suppose it would make a lot more sense if someone was just turning out the lights, one by o



The End