-having a roommate that eats really fucking loud.
also he only eats noodles, there's a lot of slurping.
-shower farts
-people getting mugged outside my dorm door.
-popping my neck.
-having a 3 hour, 4 hour, and hour and a half class all in the same day.
-no job.
-no money.
-photo supply list totaling upwards of $170.
-sad songs.
-This face:
-having a different roommate that leaves his reggae and/or kid rock blasting after he leaves the room and leaves the door open.
-having a roommate that leaves the door open everytime he leaves the room because he's too lazy to take his keys.
-coming back to my room and finding my roommate setting up beerpong.
-seattle.
-all of you not being here.
-don't worry i'll post one of all the good things tomorrow.
but for now i will miss you and love you to death
2 comments:
very cute face regardless.
Im sorry about shower farts (what is it about water that makes them smell so... pungent?...) and kid rock. Equally gross and funny.
dear boy,
-i suggest trying to slurp louder than him, while eating his soup. maybe he'll get the point.
-i don't talk about farts. its awkward for me. perhaps it has to do with my upbringing?
-mugging is all the rage.
-why do you hate popping your neck? on days when the sun isn't out, it's about all i have.
-the nice thing about those classes is that they equal 8 1/2 hrs. which, if you round up, is 9. and i like odd numbers.
-jobs aren't all they are made out to be. build a fort instead.
-money is green. this is about it only redeeming quality.
-i say no to $170 photo supplies. and yes to pictures of cute seattle girls that you charm with your wit.
-sad songs. that's why we're masochists; you and i. if you need a sad song list, let me know. I'll get right to working on it. *see not having a job.
-that face is only reason for a joke about my last name.
-kid rock called. he wants his raggae back. he left it in your room.
-change the locks. fuck the man. or at least your roomate.
-shark him at beer pong. for losing, you get to destroy all his music and take his keys from him.
-move seattle to yakima.
-us are in your heart.
am i you are i?
yes yes. dear lovely boy. and how i miss you and cigarettes and black coffee and secret spots and someone who will write about cobwebs catching ash and the possibility of God not existing. Even when we can just barely taste him on our lips.
lovelove to you. i'm still stuck at two.
~this boy.
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