So, Sammy went and found himself a demon to chat up with. A demon, Sam? That's what we hunt. You can't make buddy buddy with a demon just for the possibility of saving me. Well, in other news, we lost $46,000 to some chick with a crappy british accent. Oh, and Sammy lost his shoe. His shoe! What is he, 5 years old!? I swear. He goes and holds a rabbit's foot and all Hell breaks loose. Ha, get it, breaks loose. We opened the gate to Hell. I crack myself up sometimes.
So, I was looking through Sammy's profile on here. Oh, I'm sorry, I mean Samuel. Here's my thoughts to Samuel: The Impala is not a dirty black, it's a rich black, thank you very much. And I'm not bitchy looking. But, you are emo looking. Ahahaha.
There aren't any updates, yet, on the plan to get my soul back. We don't really have any leads yet, I guess it's not that easy. But, Samuel here, needs to quit worrying about it. We'll figure it out. And anyone that sees him around while we're out on the road, go give him a hug cause he's such a brave little soldier! Ahahaha!
I'll write more later, but the food's here, and that doesn't even need an explanation.
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- Current Music
- Sam's emo whining
