i will be the first to admit that i suck at packing. unequivocally and without a doubt i just suck at it so hardcore. suck like you wouldn’t believe. also, my suitcase is on it’s last leg, right? so like…it makes packing even more difficult. and i’m afraid that this is the last trip this suitcase has left in it, and thus i worry that it will explode in the airplane or something.
all of dallas-fort worth will see my underwears and my clothes strewn everywhere. it will suck hardcore. everyone will see my spider-monkey panties, and my knee-high argyle socks.
damn.
in other news, brandon and i shall never see a movie in a theatre together, ever…or the world will cease to be, armageddon will come about and a fiery ball of destruction and despair will consume the entire fucking planet with doom!!! doomy doomy doom do-do-do-doom!!!!
::ahem::
which is to say, try #587,643 in the ‘brandon & pineapple go to the movies’ saga has come to a conclusion that involved me walking to kendall square, meeting the assmunchkin and standing in some ricockulous long line, becky snagging the last ticket, freezing on a ride to the port in a questionable jeep, playing a dubious game of pinball and some winxp home vr shooting game, downing a jack & coke (and apparently buying the assmunchkin a pbr!) then taking a freezing ride home.
jebus.
when will i learn? when i ask you!??!
i swear to god, if the assmunchkin and i ever do set foot into a theatre, the world as we know it will end.
ka-BOOM!!!!!111oneoneone
