So this might be the last time i ever post to this blog.
You see, I'm going home for thanksgiving. My mom has invited the Burchfields (who, i shold note, have an utterly perfect daughter) over for dinner. Now, the Burchfields are cool and all (especially their daughter), but there is this wierd thing about every thanksgiving they've been invited to. Someone in my family has either gotten hurt or died each time. I just happen to be driving 300 miles to get home, so it looks like if anyone's going to be dying this year, it's going to be me. Now, my mom realized this, and hasn't "officially invited" them, but i have a feeling that the icy hands of fate don't care about technicalities, and that they're out for my blood. So if you're driving around this week and see a wreck, check to see if it's a silver escort (which it will be, assuming there's enough left to identify). Look for the dying, geeky guy in glasses then point at him and laugh. I'll appreciate it, i promise. I'll even let you know that you're number one, just to thank you for caring.
