Okay okay. I've decided to blog, not that anyone cares. Why am I blogging? Why haven't I deleted this blog yet? Why am I asking these questions? My eyes hurt... My neck hurts, too. I can't even head the ball in a soccer game without it hurting for the rest of the day (and the next day). I owe you for that, Ross. And no, I will not let it go. I can't believe he would do that. Psycho-path. I fear that I will not be playing soccer next year. After twelve years, it'll all come to an end, thanks to an ex-friend of mine. I hit you once, Ross. ONCE. Yes, I swung my fist IN FRONT of your face, but did I ever try to hit you (except for the one time)? No. I swung my fist to get you to stop. You finally stopped and let go of me when I threatened to kick you in the groins. Something is permanently wrong with my neck. Fortunately, I came out with no bruises, since you only punched the sides of my head and strangled me. My back is okay, but my neck is even more screwed up than it was when I was a baby. You tried to beat me up, and you have succeeded in hurting Austin and making him cry many times. You've actually kicked a six-year-old. He may be annoying, but he's SIX. OF COURSE he's going to be annoying. Your reactions only make it worse. And then when he finally stops, it's because he's lying on the ground crying and gasping for breath, you psycho. There are ways to handle him. You don't know how to, so just STOP IT. My dad saw you, just so you know.
Well, that felt kinda good. He's probably not going to read that. I don't care whether or not he does. *sigh* Wow, I just realized how many times a day I have to pop my neck. I think I just did it three times in the same minute.....