Everyone in the universe is bugging me. All of you stop using the words “hate”, “love”, and my name. I’m not mad. I’m just full of misanthropy at the moment.
P.S. Not really aimed at anybody, but your cellphone is a freakin’ miracle. Seriously. A miracle. Stop complaining about it and give it a second to go to space and back while you type away on it like a crack-addled praying mantis.
So all my teammates got their hair dyed over spring break together. Well except Jeffrey and I. I told my parents that I thought about it then decided against it. For once they were like, “It would have been fine.”
Then my dad said, “I expected you to come back with a tattoo. That’d been great.”
So…. Vinni, the number one on the team, likes to jokingly call me Bradley. He’s a great guy and I truthfully look up to him and stuff. But how do you tell a 28 year-old Brazilian man who’s carved out of marble to stop calling you a name because it just so happens to be the name of your dead brother…?