soundczechfic: (:D)
sambot: um
fitz: ?
sambot: kame-chan and i went on a bus tour together and ivy chan kept borrowing money off us for some reason and then we saw a bear being killed and we cried and cried

sambot: i woke up thinking
sambot: boy i hope kame is ok after that bear

I started typing this entry last night and then forgot about it. Sam wanted me to tell you all about how hard my life is, "with (my) words". This entry is going to be all self-conscious, I can tell already, because Sam is all excited to see it. Me and my words can never live up to her expectations.

It was really humid and rainy yesterday and Sam and I were walking around the city getting things done. I italicise this because anybody who knows us would be amazed how productive we have been lately. We were running errands and carrying heaps of massive bags. Sam was carrying a cumbersome package for our evil deeds. We're walking along and both taking these small, hesitant awkward steps because we both wore thongs (flip flops for you people who are going to be like, lololol like twelve year olds. Australians call flip flops thongs.) and our feet were sliding around like iceskates on the wet cement.

So we're walking down Lonsdale Street by Melbourne Central, passing all these people doing their daily shopping, on their way to work, huddling from the rain. I'm walking all awkwardly and trying not to kill myself and suddenly my foot shoots forward and my shoe breaks T_T. I stopped in the middle of the path and was like, "Oh my god, my thong." This is when Sam started laughing, and she didn't stop for a good ten minutes. I was just like, staring at the thong hanging half on my foot and then I bustled into this little alcove where I could sit on a dry ledge and fix the shoe. Sam stood there on the side of the footpath and just laughed and laughed. She said it was my face that set her off, that I looked really dejected sitting there on my ledge and fiddling with my broken green thong, bags full of our retarded equipment in a heap around me. I had to try and shove the toe part back through a hole in the sole. Nobody suffers like I do. I was sitting there fixing it and Sam was seriously like dying with laughter. Her face was so red and I could see tears on her cheeks. When people talk about hysterical laughter, this is what they mean. She'd sound like she was going to calm down and then she'd meet the eye of a passer by and just start laughing again. She said she hadn't laughed that hard at anything in a very long time. I was just like, dot. the whole time. I NEED MY SHOES.

After I fixed it and we started walking again she was still giggling and I kept saying things to set her off and she'd be like, "NO, NO, STOP, I CAN'T TAKE IT, MY STOMACH HURTS. STOP. STOP. SERIOUSLY. I CAN'T TAKE IT. FITZ. STOP."

I think my life has become like 150% more stupid and pointless and awesome this week.
soundczechfic: (loser)
damn it feels good to be a gangsta.
a collab by zechy and twp ~



May 2012

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