Complications to salvaging a saturday night

I hate my house.
The stairs squeak, the wooden door gets jammed, and the screen door screeches. Makes it near impossible to sneak out. I attempted last night. My sister heard so she went on the balcony and stood there waiting. So i had to wait for her to go back in before i made a run for it. It worked, i succeeded, relatively. Never wear thongs, the complex echoed with flip-flopping.

Got there, did my thing, found a new park.
Saturday nights suck, so many people on the road late at night.
Unnerving, frustrating, worrying.
I got back in, she waited up for me.
If it wasn't for the screeching door i would be home free.
I got a lecture, followed by inquiries.
I cracked a few jokes about it, it makes it easier for us both.
I hope she's not gonna follow in my footsteps.
At least i know she's not gonna tell.
We have a code of trust. By this i mean blackmail.

I love dad's simplicity, we were watching transformers.
Took him a while to realise there were good and bad robots.
Most amusing thing, he only had one complaint about the movie.
"Why don't they have Rollerblades" referring to the autobots.
There was a deceptacon with Rollerblades, immediately;
"SEE HE HAS ROLLERBLADES WHY DON'T THE OTHERS"

Now I'm at a loss what to do. Comp's still down.
To cold and wet to go train. Maybe exercise in doors.
Or find another dvd.