Ummmm...right.

*twiddles fingers*

I don't suppose my sociology is going to do itself, then?

(Or I could be exceedingly naughty and rearrange my THREE icons.)

Magic done, tired.

UGH. *passes out on keyboard* I'm going to BED. Fuck you, last sociology question, I need my sleep. I have plenty of time in the morning to finish YOU.

MY ROOM DOES NOT EQUAL HER ROOM

AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH! MY MOTHER GOT RID OF SOME OF MY BELTS WITHOUT MY FUCKING PERMISSION! MY ROOM IS NOT YOUR ROOM, YOU FUCKING MORON, I'VE TOLD YOU THIS BEFORE! NEVER, EVER, EVER TOUCH MY SHIT! EVER! You ever fucking WONDER why I get SO pissed off when you comb through MY possessions when cleaning? THIS. IS. WHY.