I'm at home alone. And there's a dead milipede in my kitchen. Ants are currently eating the milipede. Well, at least that settles their lunch. I have no lunch and have to order McDonalds, which may or may not layan me because the last time I called, they asked for my parents. Its so illogical, what, you think every non-adult who calls for McDelivery is pulling a prank? Some people really have to eat, you know, and you're the reason they might be starving.
Not to mention the last two times I called for Pizza delivery my call was rejected (its not my fault they don't know how to spell "Tze Huey" right? They should take chinese name spelling lessons) because I got fed up with them saying Sorry? and Pardon? And stuff like that, right?
All said, making calls for delivery should be left to pros like Venessa Yong because people like her have good grown up voices. My grown up voice, well, lets just say it probably sounds like constipation.
Home alone is nothing to be sad about, I get the TV, the computer, the Wii, and the house to myself. And there's no one to boss me about so I can do whatever I want, which includes waking up at 11 and skipping breakfast to blog. I'mma order extra filling McD lunch later. And also, there is peace and quietness and no bratty brothers annoying and irritating you whenever you are within range of sight.
And I don't think its gonna be boring at all because I have the World Wide Web to accompany me, not to mention the dead milipede in the kitchen, and I could just use the phone to call anyone anytime, and I have to pack for the sleepover tomorrow (AHHHHH I CAN'T WAIT) and I have to sort out my bursting wardrobe, and I also have to wash my shoes, etcetra stcetra. Goodbye.
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