I have just gotten a text message from my father with a picture of a Yellow Mini attached to it, and now I finally realize I have created a monster. I can’t get in the car with my family any more, for fear that they might start looking out for specific excuses to beat me. I’m hardly the most perceptive person at the best of times, especially not when I’m zoned out in the car, so it has become a mortal fear.
And now a Yellow Mini… and a picture, no less! Is that even in the rules? I’m fairly sure you can’t collect points in the car game, I’m fairly sure that won’t stop my family too. They’re crazed, dangerous people and they’ve started corrupting the rules of all the classic lessons I have taught them. On Sunday, my brother tried to claim bagsy on my birthday money, and when I told him he couldn’t bagsy it, he attempted to lay a dibs. Who are these obscene children who think they can corrupt the doctrines that must be rigorously followed by all adolescant, regardless of race, religion or gender? Heresy, I call, I am outraged.
Still, today I am free and safe from dead arms, or whatever these unruly teenagers are calling them nowadays, for I am in Bournemouth and waiting, once again, for Liam to… um… well he was meant to be circulating the room, but he’s not in here now and I haven’t seen him for about an hour, which means he could be doing anything by now. I was waiting around doing nothing all day yesterday, I don’t want to have to do it again! At least I have done my banking today… I guess.
I’m going to go get some lunch… later!