The Day Of New Years Revolutions

I was right.

As per usual.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith was, as hypothesised, more than awful and into the realms of holy shit why am I here?

Trite, badly acted, and horrendous are a few words that spring to mind. That's with all the expletives censored, for child viewing. Shut up, Cassie.

I can't be bothered to continue with this line of thought. It's boring me, and, well, it's boring me. So, there we have it.

We spent the rest of the time sitting on a wall outside the station, Fati and Tom pretending to be clever with their Su Doku nonsense, whilst I stared around, absent mindedly, not even bothering to feign interest.

And then.

I went home.

And then, I spent another few thousand hours on the phone to Fati, where she made me CRY. I shan't forgive you, F'mah. Yeh, I will. Shut up, Cassie.

I am too tired to make this interesting.

Good night, chums and chumettes of the cyber world.