Warning: Information Overload!
I wish my parents cared enough to enter me in childhood gymnastics of some sort so that I would be able to kick my own ass right now for forgetting about a million things I wanted to tell you when I got a sec. BLAHOBAGS.
I'm hoping they'll come back to me when I lay down/pass out in a few minutes from sheer exhaustion. That's when it always happens. And though I usually curse my enormous and highly functioning brain, I will not tonight, I'll write down what it tells me and then tell you later, alright?
I'm pretty sure one of the things is that I shave my mustache and I'll tell you all about that tomorrow. Because I'm not ashamed of the shaving, in fact, if you are offended by the shaving then I suggest you grab a wrench and pry your head out of your ass because you probably need to shave yours too and your friends are just too nice to tell you about the fu-man-chu you're cultivating as we speak. And another thing, perhaps you're thinking waxing is more socially acceptable than shaving and to that I say shove your head back up your ass because in case you haven't noticed, I DON'T HAVE TIME TO PEE BY MYSELF LET ALONE VISIT A SALON THAT WAXES HAIRY UPPER LIPS. So there.
Aren't you just chomping at the bit for tomorrow morning to come now? Huh? Yeah, I thought so. (Ass).