Damn you and your mullet.

So anyhow, I decided to take a break from all my homework and go outside to help my dad with cleaning the cars. I put on the only clean clothes I had and went outside. At this particular point in time, I have had a pile of fruit-roll ups in my room so I've been popping those bad boys back like popcorn. I recieved a handsome quantity of them in bulk. Anyways. I walk outside, in my torn-to-shit Static-X shirt (I love that shirt, it's so comfortable and worn in but it looks like complete shit now), a pair of grey shorts (only clean pant apparel), knee high baseball socks (The kind with the black stripe along the side. Little will know what I'm talking about.), the green converses with laces untied and dragging behind me, like one of those two year old's who doesn't know how to tie his shoes yet, and a fruit rollup (rolled up of course) hanging from my mouth, with the occasional drop of spittle dripping off. My dad took one look at me and said I looked like trailerpark shit. As much as I wanted to argue the point and take a firm standing against his particular views, I'd have to say he was pretty much right in that case. But curses to that, I will continue eating my fruit rollups, for the cherry goodness is not something I am about to leave behind.