If i hear rocket summer one more time, i'll stop the car.

hi. it's before midnight, which is always a morale boost when realising that neglecting your blog is verging on heresy. i would like to say that i have been thinking about the following content all day, but i have had more pressing things to apply myself to, like trying not to cry like a girl when the well-pierced man was clamping my nostril like a 2x4. i wept a mini stream when he inserted, nay, thrusted, the stem of the piercing through my snozz. aside from the feminine squeals escaping from my throat for that half-a-minute of hell, i've had a good day. i saw my girl off into a shifty, unmarked taxi, which was allegedly bound for stansted, and immediately regretted the decision. what the shit am i going to do now with my evenings? bombing to hers at 12.30am to make rocky road now seems like the coolest thing to do when i can't sleep.