I swear, if I do not get my own room in the next year, I'm moving the fuck out. Sam just marches in here like it's his room too. Well, I'm 2 years older, therefore the room is like... 80% mine. I'm 7 inches taller than the bastard, clearly I need more space than that midget fucker.

But nah, he spreads himself out so he does. Thinks he fucking owns the place.

Last night, he asked me to tidy up my side of the room. MY SIDE. My side is my side and I'll do what I like with it, mate.

Apparently the smell from my side was making it hard for him to breath? BULLSHIT. Stop breathing then mate, like I'd give a fuck.

And even when the little turd is out somewhere, the rest of the family feels the need to have a goddamn reunion in my room whenever they can. And does knocking before entering ever cross anyone's mind? Of course not.

My mother burst into my room asking if I wanted a snack so I stopped myself from ragging at her coz, I was sorta hungry and could go a snack. So I said "Ok mama, what is there?" Guess what there was? Fruit? Nope, WORSE. That's right, nutrigrain bars.

Not even the apple ones. The really shitty backcurrent ones. FML