Big Fat Daddy Juice

Stop Moaning, My Mom's Coming

            My dad keeps telling me that my American Idiot CD is in my room, but it isn't. I kept telling him that it's in the car, but he keeps insisting that it's in my room. Like BOY,

HERE is the CD case (ignore that it's MCR, I don't have the actual case).

                 If you look VERY closely, I know that it's hard to see, but you can see that the  American Idiot CD is IN FACT, NOT IN THERE. This is so stupid, what am I talking about, MOVING ON.
               In Drama, Mrs. Passante wasn't as mad today, so that's tight. Ryan asked me if he could borrow my bucket, and Y'all Know Who was behind him, and I was trying to play it cool, but I probably was acting like a whole mess. I have other shit to worry about, anyway.
               Something that gets on my nerves is when teachers act like their class is the most important, or they act like their class should be a priority over others. BITCH, I've got other classes too?? Sorry, that I don't worry about fucking cells and angles and The Magic Pasta Pot all day, every day. Well, I actually do worry about The Magic Pasta Pot a lot, but that's besides the point. I don't really like going to VE, because I never understand what the absolute slim slammity pip pip fucking fuck is going on. I'm not ready to run a business, motherfucker. I'm gonna cry during my presentation.
           I have a love/hate relationship with presenting. I'm always super excited to do it, but when it's actually time to get up there, I'm so scared and I'm screeching on the inside. Even when Mr. DunneJaffe explains what we're supposed to do, I'm absolutely clueless.
                  I have a McFlurry in the freezer. My bussy is about to bop bop bop bop bop.

Song Of The Day:

A true early 2000's classic.