I went to go to bed and discovered my clothes had congregated on it, sipped the thread kool-aide, and now I have a massive number of clothing corpses to dispose of. And it is very late. I am tempted to merely sleep beneath them.
Rar rar rar.
More time for me to exist, please.
For serious.
And missionaries are dangerous dodgeball players. When they put on the tag, they become terminators. Unbelievable strength in those boys. I wanted to catch a ball and it jammed my wrist. My good one. The one I have to use to do art with. *panic* I NEED that hand!!!!!!!!! I can't use it!!!!!! *über panic*
*runs away screaming*
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