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She doesn't know who I am. She doesn't give a damn about me. (8)
Posted Sunday, September 26, 2010 // 0 comments (+)
#248.
Today started off pretty fucking shit. Half the family on my back about not wanting to go help out at the cafe on a Sunday. I mean it's fucking Sunday, did you really expect me to stop seeing my dad? If you did, you sure as hell thought wrong. Just thought I'd tell you now.
But I did end up going. Showed up helped out a bit. Wasn't too happy though. There was some weird market thing going on out front, that pulled in customers I guess.

After that, went to dad's house. Brought Johnny with me. Ate some grilled cheese and left for J's place. The rest of my day was good from there. Chilling with J and T screwing around a learning a few chords on guitar. It'd take a miracle for me to remember what T taught me. LOL. So yes, and now I am home. Blogging. And so yeah.

I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, listen to Iron Maiden baby, with me. Ooh-ooh ooh -ooh.. I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden baby, come with me Friday, don't say maybe, I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, like you. Oohoohoohooooh. - Wheatus, Teenage Dirtbag.
Screw you and your epic musical gift. (Y)

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About
Hello, this is Tien. This blog is the remains of the unconventional cliches and angsty phrases of my teenage years. (Plus a new one every now and then)
I ♥ Phoenix, (500) days of summer, double entendres, unmade beds, autumn, Chopin, syncopated melodies, G7 chords and things that make me feel.
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1. Staightener. 2. Better grades. 3. A bag that fits. 4. A better appreciation for life. 5. A haircut. 6. A new TV.

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