Fuck our bathroom. The walls are bleeding. Every time we shower the ceiling drips death, so we cleaned it today. Angi brought us a giant bag of popcorn yesterday, so we sat around and ate it last night. We barely made a dent in the massive bag. Matt doesn’t know how to eat like a big boy, so there is popcorn all over the living room floor. The tracker is sitting in the backyard in a puddle of mud, and we drank more Red Thunder.