(Note- sing the title to the tune of 'Punk rocker' by Sandi Thom. If you do not know this song, I've added punctuation to help you. you're welcome.)
I'm sitting here looking through my books and trying not to calculate the 'what I don't know' to the 'what I do know' ratio for my final proper scary exam tomorrow. The results would just be depressing. Oh well, I can always copy eh? I'm sure the exam moderators won't care. Ha. Ha. Sob.
I can't wait until my ten year old brother has his GCSEs. He has no common decency at all. My bedroom is unfortunately above the 'music room.' (That's what he likes to call it, but in reality it's the spare room with a drum kit, a guitar and keyboard in it. Oh and a triangle. Mustn't forget the triangle!!) So, as I write this, wafting into my ear come the wonderful sounds of him trying to play a slightly more timeless version of the wedding march using all the different instruments set on a keyboard. At high volume. At the moment it's the honkytonk's turn I believe.
Kill me now.
Oh gawd, now he is wailing. Sorry- I mean singing.
Teenage girl up for adoption. Blue eyes, cute smile, will clean and cook for food. Looking for loving parents. Ideally rich. Fame preferable but optional. Must NOT have any children currently. Apply here if interested. Thank you.
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