How's studying for the bar...??? OH, IT'S GREAAAATTTT!!!!

Im back. Kinda. I took a nine hour practice test today. Whatevs. It's like totally cool. I don't even, like, care, man. Yeah, I mean, I was all like totally hungover 'cause my mom made me drink margaritas from her magic bullet, but, like, once I got into it, man, it was totally like, not even that bad. For reals. I don't know what everyone's freaking about, dude. It's just like...some stupid test or something. who cares....I like went to school for three years, so i had to learn something, right? Tootalllllyyyyyyyy......heh heh heh....

WHATEVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!! I swear to God you guys, if one more person tells me that it's all going to be "cool" or that it's "almost over" or that "if [I] just relax [I'll] do fine" I'm going to throw whatever is in my hand at their head. And if whatever I'm holding won't do damage because it's too light or insubstantial, I'll pretend to throw it and let my fist follow. BECAUSE IT'S NOT GOING TO BE ALRIGHT. PEOPLE FAIL THIS THING ALL THE TIME, MOTHERFUCKERS. Actually, assholes, FIFTY PERCENT OF PEOPLE FAIL THIS THING ALL THE TIME. Douchebags. and THAT is why people with the aformentioned continence become presidents, and not lawyers. Oh....why, you ask? Because there's not a 6 hour a day 3 day long test of your intellectual prowess/freakoutability-level prerequisite. So, from now on, STOP FUCKING TALKING TO ME ABOUT THE FUCKING BAR. PRETEND IT DOESN'T EXIST. DO NOT SAY ANYTHING TO ME if you see me out and about for the magical hours of daylight that I actually somehow allow myself to absorb every few weeks. Just FUCK OFF.

unless you want to buy me a delicious treat or rub my shoulders. Then, ask my boyfriend's permission and proceed if he so allows. Because I don't even want to hear you ask me if it's okay, and I've designated him as my gatekeeper. Because so far he's the only one I haven't had the urge to obliterate. yet.