So I was scrolling through the Jason Momoa tag and my brother was like “How tall is he?”
“Well, I think he’s 6’6” I keep mixing Jason up with Rory.”
“Rory McCann. He plays the Hound.”
“OH THAT BADASS DUDE WITH THE LARGE SWORD AND COOL HELMET THING. I like him.”
ALL MY PROUD LITTLE SISTER FEELS.
DON’T GIVE ME NUMBERS AT NIGHT
TIS BAD LUCK.
I WILL GET NIGHTMARES.
Noseriously. Ihadanightmareaboutnumbersflyingandattackingme. That is how much I abhor math. IDEK I’m good at addition.
Prairie is a five year old :B
My brother wants me to play with him.
Dammit, he’s going to start wearing makeup if he hangs around me so much.
Yet it doesn’t feel awfully Christmasy this year.
I suppose it’s because the parents are at it again, and I’m stuck in my room, trying to fall asleep, but trying to keep awake as well, incase one of the younger ones come looking for me.
I’m so tired. This is odd.
Merry Christmas, I suppose :3