lørdag den 26. marts 2011
Taylor and I had an argument. It came out of nowhere. One moment, we were trying to assemble a table from IKEA. The next, we were trying to crack open each others' skull with the lime-green table legs. He told me that the bendy thingamajig was supposed to go into the whatchamacallit. I told him that he was a liar, a bitch and Hitler. He disagreed and broke my arm. At this point, I was pretty confident that I was winning the argument. So I pulled a knife, stabbed him in the lung, and told him that his face was stupid.