I got nothing. You got anything?
I did play some. Mr. O’, on the other hand, started Assassin’s Creed Odyssey. He said maybe he’ll go back to Red Dead once I’m done. Sigh. I feel responsible. Because I am.
You tried. He’s gonna milk this guilt trip, isn’t he?
Now watch: you’ll sit on his ACO disc and break it.
I’M WORKING! It’s a never ending weekend of hellishness.
I magpied. Two hours despite a bad wrist cuz fuck it. Had to escape the hellishness.
Mm, neverending hell weekend. The stuff memories are made of.
Kids are back at school FOR A HALF DAY BECAUSE EVERY FUCKING TUESDAY IS A HALF DAY WHICH JUST ADDS INSULT TO INJURY and I hate my life.
When Mr. O gets down about losing his save, just say “Dude, you’re not Butch.” That’ll cheer him up.
Oh man your freaking half-Tuesdays, what is even up with your town?! I always forget about your Tuesdays, for the very good reason that they are ridiculous and horrifying.
Your taxes pay for this, man. Complain to the school board. More.
It’s payback because I thought they were so cool in eight grade.
Ridiculous and horrifying under normal circumstances. After a three day ‘professional development’ weekend? Just plain mean.
Good point. You do deserve it for thinking it was cool then.
It’s one of those repeating cycles of horror where every generation suffers for the errors of its forebears.
But I only got to enjoy it for six months, as I moved here in eighth grade. Seems the punishment does not fit the crime.
So often these divine retribution things work out that way.
As if the gods are willfully cruel and/or have terrible aim when smiting.