I don't even know why I did this. . .
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"Come on, we have to get your medicine. Down the hall," my father said.
I stood up, ya know, normally, and crouched. Started chopping at the air with my hands like some effed-up fake-ninja from a movie and started shouting, "SHABABABABABABABABABABABABABABA!" all the way down the hall.
For the record, I am not Polish. . . at least I don't think so.
I want to be Swiss though. . .
Hory sheet.
New ship.
SwitzPol. So faboulos. . . . . . . . . . . . . and sexy.
And hot.
And-- I'm going to stop now.
