Ooooh.... ouch.

My homework is going to kill me.

Death by Latin. Killed by a bunch of dudes who died 2000 years ago. It seems vaguely poetic.

If someone does find me dead tomorrow, tell Scarlett I do give a damn and Tiny Tim that I won't be home to make fun of him this Christmas. He'll probably be happy and dance on my corpse.

Plectrum status: the little clip thing on the chain is broken. I need to fix it.