Titulaire n'est pas responsable...

It's has been a lonely experience living here at three-eighty four-hundred-and-four. I would definitely have to say that having nothing to do is the worst thing ever. Though I definitely have watched a lot of TV, I have really done nothing.

I. Love. Sourdough.
Making Sourdough-dijon-tomato-lettuce-and-ham sandwiches is great.

I. Want. A. Boyfriend.
Hmm...it'd be nice just to have someone to talk to around here more than anything else. But I'd rather have a boyfriend so that we can both talk. Being desperate here.

I've entertained old guys asking me if they could "just" blow me. Hmm. Sorry, morally, that's not going to work for me. Though, if you wanted to be my boyfriend, like you know in a serious relationship, I say that that's fine. Plus, if you're within ten years of my dad's age or more, that's just a bit weird. I'll be your friend, and maybe you'd grow on me, but with respect to my own emotional maturity, don't expect me to want you.

I. need. entertainment.
Couldn't random pandas start crawling up the walls of three-eighty? Something.

I could make my own, but that'd be too simple and require too much energy.

I gotta finish getting back packing my room.

Gotta go because of ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^. But you'll be seeing a lot more of me, now that I'm bored as hell.