Wednesday, October 28, 2009

I don't care if you have a folder

that says "It's about your daughter" which sounds pretty suss anyway, like an opening or segue in the principal's office, with a gynaecologist or in the depths of a castle on a full moon (by the way, each would continue: "Tell her I like her, and we had some good times, but I'm not looking for any commitment right now," "She appears to have tentacles in her junk," and "With tonight's moon, her transformation is complete, and she has surrendered to the primal beast within. None are safe! Bar the doors, and fetch mah wurrwulf huntin' bulluts, boy!"
I don't care about your folder, because you can't compare to a fucking pencil case full of pamphlets. C'mon dude. No contest.
Also, shame to you, other school's information package, it's all just fucking paper. Mail me some goodies, you shits.

god boarding schools are depressing :\

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