Sorry?
Buzz buzz pizza buzz.
Yes please."
I ate my pizza tonight. David makes it every Sunday. Then we watch tv and Mr. Holmes complains that we are talking to much. It's pretty good. Of course, I'm not here every Sunday, but when I am that's what happens.
I wish my head wouldn't buzz. It's like thinking through fog. It's like listening through fog. Fog no one else can see. Or hear.
I knew a guy that didn't know how to spell the word "people" once. I explained to him how to do it, (p-e-o-p-l-e) but he just shouted at me. He said, "I can't spell it! I hate that word!"
Well I don't hate the word. But just like old dyslexic Daniel, I understand why some things are, and how they are done. I've even had them step by step explained to me, but I still can't do it.
My leg hurts.
Location:The Spare Room
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