Lalala. Blodge. I love it. No, seriously. Dead rabbits are so cool. That's weird, isn't it? Why is that fascinating? What could possibly be interesting about deadness? Everything, that's what. I just can't imagine not being alive. How odd would it be to just not exist? Does everything just stop? Can you think in Heaven? I hope not. I don't like thinking. Hmmm. Anyway, today was full of laughing grooveness. And lying on the floor. And may I just add (like I really need to ask, it's my blog, goddamnit) that I seriously RULE at volleyball. That's right. Me. Cassie Bowman. I rule. At volleyball. Kind of. Ok, not really, but it sounded like a fun thing to say. Maybe they could put it on my gravestone, "Cassandra Bowman: Crap Person, But Sexified At Volleyball". Or, you know, not.
What I don't get is why this song gives me goosepimples. Why would a song give me goosepimples? Why are they called goosepimples anyway? I don't see loads of little geese-spots appearing on my arms, squawking, and whathaveyou. In fact, all I see on my arms is a lot of red pen. Board pen, actually, that I nicked from the staff room. Ooh, get me, cajoling with the teachers, socialising with Mr. Gates, whilst snatching the odd bit of stationery. Something like that, anyway. And, now, I shall leave, having confused your minds to buggery.
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