Oh, The Things I Write About

Imaginary Children? A Queer Week Indeed.


Despite my constant complains of how the week drags by in slow-mo, I can not deny it had its bright moments. For Example: I got upgraded to the undergrad course of my choice! Yayzers! I was so worried at the prospect of studying economics and Business math since I’m sure I’d fail them. Numbers never liked me.  Also I got a chance to see my leeetle sis viciously headbang to embarrass me and then make herself sick afterwards.

Nikki sent me a couple of texts a mutual friend of ours sent her. Totes unethical behavior but best buds share everything.  We laughed and cried (with the funnies) at the absolutely ridiculous, bat crazy and disturbing messages of the said acquaintance where she explains what she and her fiance’ discuss over texts.

Before you could possibly try to imagine what it might be. I’m going to release  you from this mental exertion –  The friend and her fiance talk about their imaginary kids every day, their names and the shizz. They even ‘play’ with these adorable entities who don’t exist – yet.
For example: Let’s play football with our children, hun’!
OR
It was so totally your turn to wake up the kids! Also, teenday (turnips) again?
OR
Maybe we shouldn’t tell the children about your crystal meth addiction.
(Okay, I made the last one up)

I am not making this shit up (except for the last one) . What I don’t understand is why she would she send Nikki, the biggest skeptic of love, who was hiccuping with uncontrollable laughter this message? Eh, Love can make you send your crazy personal messages to anyone.

Listening now: Jenny’s cryin’ by Dope (Badass band =D)

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