I'm listening to Kiss And Make Up by Funeral For A Friend while I write this and deciding that it is a very good song, for the record. I'm having a fad with band merchandise atm. I bought a New Found Glory badge from Retrostar, which is officially the coolest store in Melbourne :D Anyway, back on track... I'm just writing to warn you that if this blog post ends in a long line of unintelligible letters and punctuation symbols, it's because I've fallen asleep with my head on the keyboard. It's my own fault, I suppose, if we're going to be honest, though I'd much rather blame someone else for it. It's a bit hard this time though, since it was undeniably of my own volition that I stayed up until four o'clock last night, writing my music guru a frickin' novel (although it was supposed to be a letter) and watching Supernatural. In the morning. What a rebel. Shucks.
I'm slowly learning Spanish by watching Supernatural (Sobrenatural) on TuTV. Lol. Tu mi preguntas, carino? Has anyone ever been so pointlessly oriented? It's a hobby. I like to think of it as an endearing quirk. Like learning Hamlet's soliloquy off by heart. Completely irrelevant, because aside from random trivia nights which sane people avoid at all costs in the first place (bad experiences, don't go there), it's never going to serve a purpose in reality.
But thenpracticality's never been my strong suit.
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