It's really not your fault

... if no one cares to talk about it, talk about it...

Yes, I realize how me posting those lyrics is giggle worthy. I'll wait. *whistles*

Good? Good. Leave all snarky comments at the door, please. Alright, I won't kid myself. I know all snarky comments will be left in the comments section, in a text, or on Twitter or Facebook. And let's be completely honest... we both like it better that way.

Anywho. Who has two thumbs and locked herself out of her (running) car and her house today? This guy. Eeyep. Torchy no happy about this. Torchy feel like world's biggest fucking moron. Torchy is unsure as to why she is writing in the third person. Hmm. Torchy want Skyrim. And Rum.

The shitty part is that I called a number that I have... a warranty with? I really don't know what it is. It's like a AAA sort of thing, but I'm supposed to get it for free. So they asked the standard questions. Account number, who's name is on the policy, when it was activated (all info that's on the slip of paper I have), the last 8 characteristics of the VIN... alright, kind of weird but easy to find. Make, model, and year of my car... alright, this seems like it's getting excessive but okay. Where I bought the car. Wait, what? I don't fucking remember the name of the place right now. (I do right now but I didn't at the time and had absolutely no way of finding out.) So after all of this information that was given, since I can't remember the name of the two-bit, hole-in-the-wall place that I got my car from, I don't get free service. I get to pay 60 bucks for this now. You know what dude, whatever. My fucking car is RUNNING. I have no spare key and I just want to fucking get it unlocked. Dude works with me and takes down roughly 600 more answers of mine.

Then, after paying over the phone, he tells me that it will be an hour.

One. Hour.

MY CAR IS RUNNING IT IS COLD AND FUCKING WHAT.

I was mad. Luckily, Alyssa stopped by and I could sit in a warm car and pretend that I didn't want to break a window. Naturally, all the neighbors were incredibly interested. I couldn't feel my hands or feet. You know me, blog, I'm pretty impervious to cold and I was only wearing a sweatshirt. My most of me was warm but my extremities... it hurt. A lot.

Then I got a headache. And then I was hungry.

#firstworldproblems #epicedition

The guy came in like a half hour, though, so that was good. Now I'm playing Skyrim and drinking rum and pretending I wasn't a giant fool today.

That's the last time I try to take out the garbage.

New Truth chapter is up. You already knew that though. Might throw up a special next Tuesday. Not sure. Some people have been asking about it and I have a good idea, but I'm not sure. Speaking of such things, I am getting kind of popular and it's kind of weird. I guess, to me, these people like a story because it tells an awesome love story... I wonder if it would take away the majesty of it if they all knew that I am 90% Vinyl and I have my 90% Octy and my 100000% Lyra. Either way, it's neat to know that I'm inspiring other people to create stories and artworks and whatnot. That's a good feeling.

Course, it's nicer to know that other people, perhaps more important people, are somewhat enjoying it. Don't you think, Blog?

Oh hey, a blog post before midnight.
[boom]