If you know me in real life you know that I have a wicked toothache this week that is wreaking havoc on my sleeping pattern. As a result I am ass-exhausted and could not get it together to write something for today. So we’re gonna tell funny stories today. Here’s mine, tell me yours in the comments.
If you know me in real life you know that I recently moved
to the hood into a new place. Although I was living alone before I moved, this is the first place I’ve lived that was totally mine, which is great because unlike my last apartment, nobody else’s stuff is in here and I can put everything exactly where I want it. Problem is when I lose things I have no one else to blame. Or so I thought.
Case in point: ever since I moved I have not been able to find my bible. I know I own one, I know where I used to keep it, and I know I moved everything but it was nowhere to be found. This has been bugging me for weeks now so yesterday I decided I was going to search top to bottom and not give up until I found it.
Do you want to know where I found it? In my “goodie” box under my bed buried underneath certain um, toys and suchlike. I know I did not put it there and only two people helped me pack – my little sister and my father. This tells me that depravity runs in my family.