I was already super depressed and you knew that since we talked about it before I went to work. But whatever right.
Here’s an idea. Let’s take a situation Emmett can’t control, blame him for it, tell him he started it all after he almost just died in a similar situation last week.
For my final grade in art senior year I sat down and sewed a dress out of phone book pages and weaved a corset out of them and glued so much shit and sewed a skirt on to it using a sewing machine and folded all of these flowers to put on it and it even had a working button to hold closed the back and another girl in my class duct taped a few pages of newspaper together and called it a dress and got the same grade as me and I am forever angry about that