(Source: big-damn-heroes, via stephid)

I had my Grade 8 Speech & Drama exam today. Intense stuff.

I think it went well, but the examiner had absolutely no sense of humour whatsoever. Every time I cracked a quirky joke to ease the tension, it was just no.

My friend Will had a dinner party at his house (he cooked for us, that’s right), and then a party after.

We played a drinking game.

Let’s just say, I may have won the drinking game on too many rounds, and I may have misunderstood a prank that was meant to be held on Keaton. I will say no more.

Easily in the top 5 best gigs of my life. I have decided to make a Janelle shrine in the corner of my bedroom (seriously, I need to get supplies for it).

Everything about it was amazing, her dancing, her crew, ndjsknskadg everything.

She added really cool things, like half way through a song just painting a picture on a canvas. In the encore she came out into the audience and somehow managed to get the whole crowd to bend down on their knees. It was incredible.

My sister and I went to the opera, to see Mozart’s ‘Don Giovani.’

When we got there, we were the only people not over 40 and wearing ball gowns. Instead, we were in jeans and a T-shirt, with a tub of popcorn and pic ‘n’ mix. Not being pretentious, just simply there to enjoy the music.

My sister looked around, and then turned to me saying: “We’re classy and we fucking know it.”

okay or drinks, whatever, soz boyf but simon get in my bed. 

(Source: fuckyeahiwanrheon, via thehickey)