I'm bored. Tomorrow is school. I don't want to go. I never got Wendy's. I have to find black paint. I painted my nails again. I'm still bored. I have to dye my hair soon. I need a job. Help me find a job. I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I'll slap you. You'll call me sweetie. Bye.
I’m sorry for your loss. If it makes you feel better, I’m currently doing nothing but sitting on my bed listening to the soundtrack of Michael Flatley’s Lord of the Dance and trying to figure out what the hell happens in Night. I would say that I am sad that I didn’t get Wendy’s either, but we all know it goes straight through me. Another thought: I can’t even remember the last time I went to Burger King. Don’t dye your hair darker. I’d say you could get a job at Rita’s but A.) You already had one that you gave up and B.) That job opportunity went away literally twenty minutes after that email was sent home. And yes you will. And if I slap you, you call me Salty.