I don't like this, you know. And it's funny, because you don't even know who you are. If you're reading this, you're not the you. So you don't have to worry. You. LILY GOT HER LICENSE YAYYYYYYY. I will build her a cake and we are going to Great Skates and NOT SKATE SCENE. Paige and I decided that we don't like the word "fun". Not because of it's meaning, but simply because of how weird it sounds if you pay a lot of attention to it. Spelling-wise, and diction-wise, I suppose. I never write real entries anymore. I miss the days when I had something genuinely interesting to say, rather than ramble on to the inconvenience of those who expected some better work from me. It's a rather unfortunate effect; that of poor diction and dialect. Because when you speak, kid, you buzz. And stirrup and hammer and anvil ring, and it's all because I don't want to hear what you're saying, as your sentences are fraying. Let's just let it slide another day. Maybe even a whole night, if that's alright by you. I've got my fingers in my ears, and my glasses fell off a few miles back. Give up on testing what I lack, because it's turned to simple fact. I don't do much right anymore. See? Nothing significant. I wish what I wrote had meaning. Ahwell, them's the breaks, bitches. Haha. It's a PALM TREE. I'm so witty...