Opal Grey

Man, I’m not very good at updating this am I?

Well, anyway. A review of events over the week. On Tuesday, I forgot like half my books ‘cause I left them in my messenger bag, which I left at Mom’s. And all the jerks in my class were like… Opal. Bitch. How the hell can anyone leave half their bags at home? And I was like.. Classmates. Bitch. Maybe if your parents are DIVORCED and you get shuttled between their houses like a hot potato… I DON’T WANT OPAL!! YOU TAKE OPAL!! EW, NO!! OW, OW!! SHE HURTS MY HANDS!! Etc.

I’ve actually never touched a hot potato. I touched a hot stove, though. It really hurt. I had to get all this stuff done. And I mean it’s like… duh, it’s a hot stove, of course it hurts, of course it burns, but I was just like… yeah. So they told me never to touch a hot stove. Well, I’m gonna touch a hot stove!! ‘Cause here I am talking about hot potatoes and I never touched one, so maybe all those idiots up therre talking about hot stoves never actually touched one.

Well, now that I have actually touched a hot stove, people with hot-stove-touching-advice-needs can consult me. I could start a business. Opal’s Hot-Stove-Touching Counsel. I could make some business cards on Publisher. It’s a good way to waste an afternoon.

Better than drugs, anyway.

Okay.

~Opal