This picture has nothing to do with anything but I figured since my brain is basically just skull porridge anymore, why should my blog make any sense.
Currently, Henry is trying to sleep while I’m laying here talking out loud about Al Jarreau dying but then it went right back to BIGBANG because that’s all I’m capable of talking about anymore.
“We should get one of those giant engineer prints of G-Dragon and then hang it right up there,” I said, making a square with my hands and pointing it toward to the ceiling above the bed.
And then I BURST INTO TEARS.
“What am I going to do when they’re all in the military?” I cried, and then, confused at what to do next, I started laughing. This is a Normal Emotional Display for me, but I still blurted out, “What is wrong with me??”
“More than meets the eye,” Henry sighed.
Maybe he’ll feel bad enough to get me that G-Dragon print for Valentines Day.
MAYBE THIS ONE
Update: I waited 10 minutes and asked again. He said no.
“But I thought you liked him?” I prodded
“Yeah but that doesn’t mean I want a picture of him above my bed.”
THAT MAKES NO SENSE TO ME.