From out of the blue...

Ahem... Hello, Internet.
I know, it's been a really long time. I'm not good with saying goodbye... Or hello (as is evident from this awkward message), so I was just hoping you could maybe not question my prolonged absence? Maybe? No?... Damn. Okay, well, I will give a few vaguely general responses as to why I haven't blogged in a while. I was on hiatus. I was trying to find myself. I was dealing with some personal things. I was captured by homicidal hillbillies who didn't have wifi (talk about technologically incapable). I had homework. I was tired. *cough* So I was hoping that would be all good? Yeah? Alright, I love you, too. *hug* This is nice.
Alright, enough of that.
I was talking to one of my friends today and the topic of my blog came up, and she asked "You're still blogging, right?". To this I responded "...". This answer made her displeased. How do I know this? She gave me The Look. If have ever been a son or daughter (or both, we don't discriminate here), you will know the look to which I am referring. Let me give an example: You are sitting at dinner with your parents and they ask you why you didn't turn in your geometry homework, you respond with "Well... I was walking to school and I got mugged by some Math Ninjas. They are running rampant around the city...". Your mother/father (or both, again, we don't discriminate. And by 'we', I mean I don't) says "Kelsey, you don't walk to school. *insert look here*". No? Okay... Your parent or legal guardian tells you to clean up your room.
(ONE WEEK LATER)
You have not cleaned up your room. Your guardian approaches you and says "KELSEY, I TOLD YOU TO CLEAN UP YOUR ROOM! NO ONE WILL EVER WANT TO BE YOUR ROOM-MATE IF YOU ARE SUCH A SLOB!"... BAM! The Look is upon their face. Yes, so my friend gave me The Look. So, Micaela, this is for you.
*scuttles for something to say*
Oh, I got a new phone. His name is Hermagilde (pronounce Her-muh-gill-duh). Porpoise (my old phone) died. He was committed suicide. I was changing for my PE class (How permiscuous), and Porpoise decided that he didn't want to live any longer, so he flung himself from my pocket and landed directly into a sink. For some mysterious reason, the sink was filled with water. And I don't mean a small puddle of water, I mean a few inches of water. So, obviously, he is no longer in operation. Although, I still keep him by my bedside table. I think that's kind of creepy, actually... It's like keeping a dead pet on your bedside table. Imagine waking up in the middle of the night and glancing over at your deceased pet: "Oh, hey, Fido. How's it going?". I'm sorry, that was really sketchy...
Okay, I'm gonna stop talking (typing) before I get any creepier (which is bound to happen).
PEACE, MY HOMIES!

A lot can happen in an hour...

If you read my last blog, you may remember me mentioning something about my bike having a flat tire. Well, I decided that since I have nothing better to blog about (besides WARPED TOUR! Hm... Could have blogged about that... Oh well. Maybe next time.) I will tell you about my very own FML!!

It all started on a day. I don't remember which day, so I will just leave that part out. I was sitting at home alone playing computer games, because I am a nerd, when I suddenly got an urge for some potato chips and candy. Seeing as my mother hates me, she had eaten all of the potato chips in the house; and seeing as my father is diabetic, we have no candy in the house either. I decided I would go down to the corner store (which is not actually on the corner. It's a little over half a mile away from my house...) and buy some food. I headed out of the house with my keys and walked about halfway there when I realized that I didn't have my wallet. After walking back to the house and grabbing my wallet, I decided that 101 degrees was too hot to be simply walking in, so I grabbed my bike and began to pedal away like a maniac! Once again, I got half way there... and my bike got a flat tire. I pondered whether or not I should keep going or turn back. I decided to head back, because I didn't want to carry my bike there and all the way back. I got back home once again and attempted to open the garage door from the front of the house. Of course, this did not work. So I left my bike outside )to avoid carrying it throught the house) and went to open the garage from the inside. I finally got the garage door open and brough my bike inside, only to discover that the garage door would not shut. I spent about 10 minutes hanging from the garage door before it finally shut all the way. Being the stubborn person I am, I still refused to walk. So what did I do? I went in search for my scooter (yes, I have a scooter... There's nothing wrong with that.). After a few minutes of searcing the garage and hall closet, I decided to look in my closet. But as I walked to my closet, I stepped in something. I looked down at my feet, which were clad in my brand new shoes, to find out that I had stepped in a giant pile of dog crap. After a few obscene words were screamed, I cleaned up the mess and washed off. Finally, utterly disgusted yet still determined to get my snack, I gave up looking for an alternate form of transportation and decided to walk to the store. I finally arrived at the store after walking in the sweltering heat (did I mention I was wearing dark purple skinny jeans and a black t-shirt? I don't know why... But I was.) and entered the store. There were no chips. BUT there was a plethora of candy and Dr.Pepper. I purchased some chocolate and a Dr. Pepper and headed home. Once I got home, I set down my food on the porch and pulled out my keys. I put the key in the lock (Yeah, I know. That's what she said) and turned the key... The door remained locked. I stood outside for 15 minutes struggling with the door in the heat, until I realized that: I had been turning the key the wrong way... I got inside with my melted chocolate and now-warm soda. I proceeded to open my drink only to have it explode in my face... FML.

I hope this entertained you.

Rawr! (That's "I love you" in dino-speak.)