There's a guy who lives on the floor above my apartment. His phone internet works only in the washroom, that too when he sits at a particular angle on the seat with his arm extended at another awkward angle. And the speakers of his China-made phone are like loudspeakers. So I know when he's in the washroom and what exactly he's chatting on, whether it's FB, or Hangout, or Skype judging by the ding.
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When M Decides To Rant
Randomthat's right... no plot, no juggling words like ping pong balls... no figures of speech... no editing... just raw truth... yup, you heard me... Imma spit the truth... well... 60% fact, 40% fiction rule still holds... at least for some chapters :P
