A Bed of the Class

I'll tell you why I like her.
Because we debate the key issues, and she always has the sharp counters.
Id est:
Me: Hobo's pizza is wicked.
She: You know what else is wicked? Jeans with elastic waistbands.
She's shorter than I am.
Just the way I like it.
She's afraid to meet my mother.
I don't blame her.

I really have to start attending more classes.
We all know I'm not getting through this degree program unless I start making eyes at my professors.
And they say that 'abscence makes the heart grow fonder...'
But what do they know?
I have a stamp card for the coffee shop in the Education building.
The coffee wench suggested I not 'lose the card.'
Like she knows me.
I'll lose it soon.
She kinda does know me.

Turpin slept over last night.
Though I wouldn't really call it sleeping, if you know what I mean.
I tripped over one of those reusable bags that she's always carrying around.
Which made a big commotion.
Then we had to remain stationary.
Because she's afraid of my brother.
I am, too.
I threw a bar of soap at him once and hit him in the face with it.
It was a decision that I immediately regretted.