| Current mood: | Yay!! |
| Current music: | "Drunken Lullabies" Flogging Molly |
Campfire Horror Stories of Stan
Seeing that I did next to nothing today, I shall write about my house. And Woodstock. Woodstock is the evil creation of Dan and Stan after a one night stand. Whoo! That kinda has a ring to it!
Okay, Woodstock has nothing. The only major landmark it has is Popeyes. The only places in close proximity of my house are fast food restaurants, slightly less than fast food, but still fast restaurants, other restaurants, groceries stores, and-- drug dealers behind them all, I'm sure. The whole thing is set up to make me fat, I'm sure. Bastards. And apparently Woodstock is a bad town, full of drugs and-- umm, food? Hell, I dunno, but yesterday my friend said he wouldn't wanna be out too late in Woodstock because of all the bad-ness in the town. Creepy, and to think I like the dark.
Okay, enough about Woodstock, I won't get into my-- umm, nine hundred and fifty six horrific stories of Woodstock that have yet to unfold, and we'll move onto my house: a nice condo in itself, but it has one thing going against it: It's in Woodstock. Okay, and a few other things like it cannot keep a constant room temperature. Ya turn on the AC, it gets too cold, ya turn it off, too hot. Plus, you can feel distinct difference in temperature between rooms when you step through doors. And the toilets have never worked. But I won't get into that, though I did somehow manage to lock everyone out of one of the bathrooms before we even moved in. x_X;;
And then there's my computer. That has it's own superstititions... Like it will run if you plug some cord into a wall... Hah... Who ever heard of such craziness?
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