So, William. Here I am, looking like a fool, writing about bondage. I'll be honest, I don't have much experience in this area. Even if I did used to occasionally tie myself to the bed as a child simply to prove I could escape. What can I say? My sister wasn't much company. I suppose that's a testament to what Will was saying. There isn't enough bondage in the world.
Now, I can't say that I definetely agree with that but, having seen very little (no) bondage in my lifetime, I have to be honest. It is certainly restricted. I don't have too much to say on the subject I'm afraid, what with the thrums of bonjovi running through my speakers. Bonjovi is distracting. At lunchtime today, Anna asked me to hold on to her, and I burst out singing 'Livin' on a Prayer'. Fortunately, both she and Naha joined in. The rest of the room full of year 11s thought us a little odd. Still. The point is that Bonjovi is all-consuming- and therefore not something to listen to when multi-tasking.
I went to the mayfair today. Ella and I shared a mahoosive bag of candy-floss. I was probably hyper the whole time. I also had a McDonalds happy meal :'). And then I sat in the car and nearly went to sleep with my major sugar come down. If Will is reading this he probably just laughed at the word 'come'. Even if I did 'spell it wrong'.
People kept staring at me when I was sitting on the floor with Will and Ella's bags. Tbf, Idc. Suck it. And my amazing text language. Up your bottoms. That's right. I am starting. Are you talking to me? I will put my facial features in your personal space area!
I'm quite cold, despite the fact it's summer. My house is always cold :/ Especially my bedroom. Not that I'm in my bedroom. My pc gets no Wi-Fi :(
Never did I think I would look forward to school. I mean, I have HUMUNGOUS amounts of homework to do. (Don't care if I spelled humungous wrong). That's what the weekend is for. Just kidding. That's what the twenty minutes before school starts are for XD
I don't like to hugely show-off, but I am super pleased with my Science results. I told my parents I would be getting them today yesterday. They still haven't asked. Either they've forgotten, or they're afraid that my R.E. result wasn't a one off and that I'm a real fail. Maybe on friday I'll get my English back too. Anyone reading this probably already knows what I got, so I won't bother writing it. I still don't really believe it anyway. Wouldn't want to publish it only to find out later that I'm actually a retard and the markers were messing with me for a social experiment.
Soz. I'm accidently becoming boring. Side-effect of sugar come-down. More sugar in my body, more interesting I am. At least, kind of. It's like that thing with gremlins (Don't let them drink alcohol before 6). So long as I don't have anything too sugary I remain at an acceptable weird rating of about eight. As soon as I get the sugar I reach the 9-10 area. Sugar come-down brings me down to a 6 and puts me up to a 4 on the mildly depressing scale.
So, I guess I'm nearly finished. In all fairness my banana is nowhere near full enough to sustain your Suzuki.
It's my life it's now or never. I ain't gonna live forever. I just wanna live while I'm alive. Words of Queen. I love Queen. Not the Queen. Not that I have anything against her. I just don't love her. You can't get arrested for not loving the queen can you? Sozzard queeny, love you really. Especially your yellow dress. I saw you in something similar the year before last for your christmas speech. Positively dashing.
I called tights "Tree socks" today. To be totally fair, it was in German, and the German word for tree and leg are similar. Baum and Beim. Okay, fine. Not that similar. Personally I quite like the idea of calling them "Tree socks." Of course, we could just call them tights if we knew the German word for tights.
The cord of my study phone hangs down and wraps around the lamp. It looks like it's strangling it. That's quite mean. I should have a word with it. I should have smelt like strawberry jam today. This I like. Not that I'm too fond of strawberry jam. Not that I don't like it. I'm fine with strawberry jam. I just rarely eat it. In fact, it's quite delicious.
I feel like I should develope strange eating habits to go with my personality. When I was a child I used to make chilly puree toasties. Chilly puree, cheese and occasionally tomato ketchup. I enjoy chips and milkshake greatly, even if I rarely have a milkshake to dip them in. If I dipped my chips in my milkshake in the presence of my dad he would go ballistic. Ballistic means powered by gunpowder or something similar. Let me look it up. It is the science of mechanics that deal with projectiles (i.e. bullets, missiles and such). Therefore someone who has 'gone ballistic' has turned into a gun. I suppose it refers to the fact that they might throw something. I don't like people throwing things at me.
Bored now. Probs gonna finish. I do still have my mini shopping trolley.
p.s. I am very mildly annoyed with Jack and Emily for not coming to town. Ly really :)
p.p.s. Tomorrow we have p.e. Tennis. 'Me throwing the ball at Ella. "The ball is my mum Ella." I throw it so that it lightly taps her shoulder. "My mum is hitting on you."
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