Hi. Let's talk about sheepskin shoes.

Since Bob Faggot (my computer's name, if you must know) is being a bitch and not letting me do anything, hello. Today sucked.

Not so much school as everything else. I woke up late which isn't really all that bad because I made it to the bus stop in time, and everything got ten times better when Ms. Gym Teacher was absent and we weren't forced to do anything and I contributed this time to French and Math homework I had gotten in the two periods before.

It was when I got home, sick of learning and school and To Kill A Mockingbird and everything in general, just to sit down and do more work is where things got worse. From 2:45PM to 6:49PM, I did homework. Now, I'm not good at math or anything, but I know that that is a little too much time worth being spent. I actually put it upon myself, wanting to get writing out twenty definitions and an original sentence for each word given, but really. I'm not in a oh-I-blame-myself mood today. Today, it's everyone else's fault.

So Dana and mom were out doing whatever the hell they were doing, first to her therapist and then supposedly later to the mall because she got new shoes. I come downstairs to say goodnight to mommom and figure I should say something to my mothwer. Wrong choice. I should've walked right upstairs and only blogged about the massive amounts of homework being shoved down my throat, but now I have something else to bitch and moan about. "Wait, wait," says mom. "I need you to spray Dana's shoes."*

SPRAY DANA'S SHOES. The easiest task in the world, yet I am being forced to do it? No. "You just spray them," I say, obviously annoyed by their stupidity. "Oh, well... I'll do them then." Now you've put me in the situation where if I reply with an, "Oh, alright," then I'm the bitch and if I huff and say, "Ugh, no. I'll do it," I'm still the bitch. I end up spraying them down, though, because she's put me in the situation where I kind of have to, if you look at it through my point of view.

Okay, I just angrily ranted about having to spray this stain-protective* stuff on my sister's shoes. But I'm just saying, that shit is kind of foolproof. Not much thought involved, yet guess who can't do it?


Fascination: How Bob Faggot will only load the "create a new post" blog thing that I am typing in right now. Nothing else works, of course, because life is peachy keen.
Quote of the day: Ms. Science Teacher: What is smut? Is that another word I don't know about, like 'jawn'?