Spaceship

I've decided to make the title of all my posts song names. And you can guess the artist, or whatever, if you like games, or something. But if it were me reading someone's blog who played that game, I'd just cheat. Google search? HELLO!

My car was tagged Saturday night. I may or may not post a picture (most likely not, as I'm a 'LAZY FUCK!'). "PooP" is on my rear windshield. I acted like I was pissed off or whatever, but to be honest, I didn't clean it off just so I could see how people would react at school. Or when I was just driving around. And to be even more than completely honest, it was a total let down. Maybe the weird looks I got from passerby were because I was staring so expectantly at them. "REACT TO MY WINDSHIELD SO I CAN BLOG ABOUT IT LATER, THANKS!" Then I was thinking about how many times my car had been tagged total, as if it's a way to determine popularity. In high school, my car was tagged twice. The second time I joined in. I guess that makes me a loser.

Then I thought, "High school sucked. I'm gonna go home and make some cheese dip."

School is not one of my hobbies.

It's difficult living with yourself when you're split about almost every decision possible. Or even actions. Lately I've been dealing with the drama of whether to skip class or not. By lately I mean since, like, the second or third week of school. Of course in general I think, "No, that's bad. Don't do that. What a waste of money!" But general isn't specific when you wake up on a Tuesday morning and it's so much easier to just turn your alarm off and fall back asleep. Regret is less intense when you get 13 or 14 hours of sleep and wake up in time for the Ellen Degeneres show. Yes, I am bound for failure. I just don't care right now.

And who needs a degree to live at home and watch Spongebob Squarepants marathons anyway?!