THE BORING WEEKEND OF DOOM

THE BORING RECOUNT OF DOOM

"Calvin."

"Calvin wake up."

"Calvin."

"Hello Calvin."

"Calvin?"

"Calvin it's father's day."

Annoyed by this sound which seemed to be determined to wake me up, I reached for my trusty tissue box of "goawayordieplz" (which is a word) only to find that the voice seemed to be in my head.

"What a strange thing, what's father's day? I shall think of this in my bed for a while longer..." I thought "Wait a bit less than a minute (but a minute for the purpose of this sentence), father's day!"

I raced to the cupboard.

At the cupboard,  my brother, my sister and I chose our presents. I chose the floppy one, Vivienne chose the one with the note that said "FRAGILE!" and Justin chose the one that looked like a DVD. We took the presents to dad. I can't remember what mine was, but Vivienne's one was a plastic tube which was apparently for wine, and Justin's was a DVD containing two movies.

In the afternoon we drove to my uncle's house because it was time for my uncle's birthday party. Our gift to him was the last book that Terry Prachet wrote. I spent most of the party reading Calvin and Hobs, a physiology comic book of which I was named after. It was an okay party, as far as parties go.

Finally, it was time to go. It wasn't that boring after all. I said goodbye and got in the car. I was tired. The drive home was as boring as this sentence. How was your weekend?