Daft Punk is playing at my house, my house

Well, Emilie has gone to England for two weeks, which means I have the house to myself. I could walk around naked, if I wasn’t so shy. Ooh I can play my music as loud as I want and sing to it! I’ve recently discovered that I love to sing. I may not be very good at it, but it’s so much fun to just scream/sing at the top of my lungs to some really good songs. But back to me being alone for two weeks. This would be the perfect time for me to have friends right now. Then I could have them over and not have to worry so much about what Emilie will think. Plus it means two weeks without guilt about not having more than one job. I swear, when she comes home from working an eight hour shift at the restaurant and I’m sitting on the couch watching CSI. I CAN’T HELP IT! I can’t speak French! I’ll work in the back at Stitches and fold clothes. OR I’ll work at Arsenic with the hot skater guy who keeps telling me I look hot in the Billabong shirt. God that guy is hot! OK I think I’ve said enough. I’m caught up in the moment of singing along with really crappy, easy to sing along with songs, like Only One by Yellowcard.
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About triztron

I don't really live in a place called Brockvegas. It's called Brockville.
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