FINE,

I am. :D

Single, too. *wink*.

Anyway, today was spent in me basement, chillin with eric and on the computer. We were supposed to go to the National Seashore, which has waves as big as I am (get your chin on the curb, not like that). Huge. I mean, ten-foot-plus waves sometimes. Gigantic waves that I love to bodysurf on.

However.

My darling mother has taken the day off today, vegging and reading and going on the computer while I remain downstairs doing the same thing, with the addition of compiling a foo fighters playlist. So, no seashore, no bodysurfing, no bikini's, no nothing.

Instead of embracing the ocean that covers 3/4 of our planet, using it to skyrocket myself across the water at speeds rivaling the X-S-1 (I wish. D:) I sit here trying to write a nice long blog post so you people will be happy and not leave angry comments.

So, my dad is a lawyer. He also does this thing on the side, where he makes infomercials so people know what scams dietary supplements are. (Not all, just certain "miracle pills" that are really calcium supplements). He recently got a few nasty emails from the drug companies, which were, I kid you not, a middle finger flying his way, and a pick-n'-mix of expletives. They also visited his youtube channel and gave all his vids one star, as another offense. If you guys feel the need to, drop by one or two of his vids and give them a fiver. You don't have to watch them, just do me and my dad a favor? Help me to help him help people.

My sister and her pet, I mean boyfriend, have gotten a few henna tats recently. I'm jealous and would get one if I had more than $20 to my name. Technically, I owe $15 to my mother, but she seems to have forgotten about that. So lets not tell her, hmm?

Remember that Foo Fighters playlist I mentioned earlier? On my quest to build it, I found M.I.A., a song by, guess who, the FF themselves. Great song, I think.

Also, if you start a conversation with me on FB, don't be offended if I ignore you. I keep it open sometimes when I'm doing other things, so I might not even notice that you're trying to tell me you're pregnant and I'm the father. Wait, what?

Speaking of which, Karen, if you're reading this, I, uh...*

God, its hot down here. I thought the basement was supposed to be cool. Changed into shorts, smelled like barf. Changed into other shorts. Smell like old goldfish. I'll make this work...

Bored to no end now, so I guess this post ends where it began.

*Just kidding, folks! I never went out with a gal named karen!