swell

-san franc.

I wouldn't have cared less even if you wrote it on a fucking piece of paper and gave it to me.
as long as you say it, i'll be fine.

gosh, i have no idea why im feeling so bitter nowadays

this isn't me.

So, i made my way back home and as usual, dylan cheered me up.The ice cream man kept ringing his bell,dylan kept jumping around like he had never heard bells ring before.I went down to get ice cream for him.

chocolate, to be exact, as instructed by the little munchkin.After we were done with our ice cream,dylan asked me to play a song.His exact words were, "stong, stong!" with saliva coming out from the side of his mouth.Okay gross, but what's a munchkin to do?I played a couple of songs,and when i got to dakota, he started "headbanging" in slowmo (he wouldn't have been able to do it that fast)and he imitated all my actions.Even, when i was lypsynching(however th fcuk you spell that), he followed.Oh, and i tried to teach him how to play the air guitar.He sucked at it.But oh well, what's a munchkin to do right?Hahaha.When i got to poker face, he jumped around even more, lost his balance, slipped, and fell on his ass. suckaaaaa. but i still adore him to bits.xxx