The winter storm got so bad over here that my dad's moustache demanded that I come stay the night, rather than drive home on a highway ridden with the dead bodies of stalled and stuck vehicles. So here I am; sitting in his cold, crimson and gold-plated house, freezing my ass off. >< I'm greatful for dad and Marcy's concern, but it's still strange being in this house, doing the old routine I was used to two years ago: watching On Demand [HOLY CRAP, TV, WHAT'S THAT?!], reading on his huge couch, making tea with a whistling kettle, walking the house, and staying up late on the internet. My old fairy-shit-colored room [it's periwinkle] is cold, and old-fashioned now. Damn, this house has some good memories; Josh and Jaime sliding down the stairs, Link shoving Lar inside the foldup couch-bed and sitting on it, snuggling on the couch with Kit, breaking shit just to piss dad off, Jessie jumping her goofy ass off the porch-balcony...shit. Shit shit shit.

This house lacks in chaos. oO;; Maybe I should sing "Rockstar" at the top of my lungs, and jump up and down on dad's unmarked police car in the driveway. Technically, it IS a cop car. So it's legit.

I wonder if I'll be able to make it to work this week. If not, at least I still have an evening off from work for once, instead of working until 11 PM. Consequently, that day is the fourteenth. I think I'll buy some schnapps, rent Doom, and laugh my ass off for the remainder of that Valentine's Day bull.

Fuck, it's cold. I think dad keeps the house cold because he's got a secret zombie army in the basement.

*goes to check*.....*steals a beer*....










"We can name him George, or we can name him...Beowulf!"

--MURPHY--