There is beer in my house.
At least six, if not eight, bottles of beer are sitting on my kitchen counter in a cooler like they are Kool-Aid. Exhibit A of my parents' moral turpitude and their own trust in my anti-teenagerness.
Well, they aren't exactly getting drunk. We're having a big party here tonight in conjunction with Dad's work and some family friends are driving in this morning. I, on the other hand, have a half-day and then possibly the first school-caused social event of my public school career. Read: The Departed and Arby's.
The half-day is because the first quarter is over, and report cards will be coming. I will be receiving the first C on my report card EVER. Like since ever, an 82 in AP Chem because of a 64 I got on an Atomic Structure test. Grrr.
I just spit out my Frosted Wheats. They are gross and old.
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