Blogger Mcbloggerson, you are getting way too serious for me... And Crutch, I am SO proud of you for finally proofreading something before posting! Cromer cracks me up with JC and Hecker, and how the heck are we really going to get everything finished, even if there were 37.2 hours in a day. And I have to second, they both are probably thinking along the same lines that we are retarded. AND, we have futbol/dance parties in the studio instead of working. I mean, seriously, a dance party? Maybe a break from all the work we had, but a dance party? I mean, sure, we like our 80s and our music... and futbol... and daft punk and a load of other things, but... wow. And JoBaby, you need to take me to wherever you are finding this thing called Febreze, because I have YET to do laundry in Barcelona. You guys probably think I am the smelly kid in class. I mean, Grumble Grau turns Queen of the Dumpster Trolls/ smelly kid in class who has a belly button. Lo SiEnto. I take showers... 2 a day. My lovely RESA shower lasts approximately 3.879 minutos, well, of hot water that is. That gives me almost enough time to wash my hair OR whatever the rest I do in the shower, you know, wash, shave... So per day, I take about a 7 point something or other shower. Que divertido! Oh, and my mattress moves during the night, even when I don't. I have woken up in the morning, rolled over, and my mattress has thrown me in the floor. What?! I guess when there is no support, sagging occurs and you fall in the floor. These are the days of our lives... and the days when I am really glad I don't have a roommate. Speaking of roommate, mine speaks absolutely no English and he sits periodically in the bathroom (his, of course) and smokes like a chimney. He is a chemical engineering major... don't ask me how we figured this out with our lack of communication. No se. But he is cool. He owns a mullet. I might let him drive my 1982 Trans Am one day... if I were to own one... Speaking of cars, I miss the love of my life. My baby is sitting at home, in the dark cool garage at the 'Rents house. Man, we are going to have some good times when I go back. Welp, I think that will cover my rambling for the night. It's about that time... you know, when the baboons, hookers, dumpster trolls, and Americans start making loud noises...
John Winger: We're all very different people. We're not Watusi, we're not Spartans, we're Americans. With a capital "A", huh? And you know what that means? Do you? That means that our forefathers were kicked out of every decent country in the world. We are the wretched refuse. We're the underdog. We're mutts.
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