stupid men.

Why can't the stupid cunt just leave me the fuck alone? It's like he thinks the world is going to end if he doesn't text me five times a day. So ridiculous. I used to just ignore him, but now I can't because he goes all whiny and says things like "o i c u r busy 4 me :(" and "y u dont text me back i'm sad i miss u :(". I assume "o i c u r busy 4 me" translates to "I perceive that you are too preoccupied with carousing and enjoying yourself in various debaucheries to pay attention to your worthy suitor", but I have no real way of knowing. All I know is that he makes me apologize for things that are sure as hell not my fault. And he's dead boring. And as stupid as shit. He seems to divine pleasure from saying "i miss u so much i miss u i wan 2 c u so much" and "when r u open i miss u" for hours. It seems to be the only thing he knows how to say, which is actually very sad, but I suppose everyone has their own methods of amusing themselves... I just wish his didn't involve the unfortunate moi. Oh, here's another text. Let's see what the brilliant boy has to say!
"well we can hang out for an hour and a half? :)" he says. Can we? Hmm.... Let me think about that... I believe I have told him on multiple occasions that I can't do anything until summer break, which is six friggin days away, but he insisted so much that I finally gave in and told him that we could "hang out" for a small amount of time on Saturday evening. A tiny bit of time! Like half an hour. But he's so pigheaded and selfish that he insists on this much! I'm so pissed off. I wonder if he wants to get it on. He keeps saying he does, and how he wants me to be his "first", and how much he wants to kiss me (with invisible quotation marks around it, over course). Apparently I'm cute and sexy and I can turn him on. That's nice and all, but I'm also sixteen. But what does it matter when one is in love? Love is what makes the world go round, after all! Without it, there would be nothing! Nothing but cynicism and scientific explanations, and what right-minded romantic wants that? Imagine, instead of having Elton John drive up to your window on a tractor holding a bouquet of roses and a guitar, you would have a white-robed chemist mixing up a batch of stem cells in a stark and hygienic lab. Kind of destroys the bubbly, heartwarming aspect, does it not?
Oh. On being asked what his plans were for our "date", he replied "the possible way? ;) u kno?" Now, I hate to be the bearer of unfortunate tidings, but I do NOT know. I ask you to tell me, not as an infatuated, hot, and bothered girlfriend to a thrilled admirer, but as one curious, inquiring mind to another, what in hell does that MEAN? I'm so confused. Does he mean that it is possible that we could get it on? Does he mean that the only possible way for it to end would be in winky-winky quotation marks fun? Or that he might possibly dies of anaphylactic shock before Saturday, therefore letting me out of my obligation? Hmm. Thus are the mysteries that I am forced to ponder.
I just wrote "Maybe... n.n". How's that for ambiguous?
...I hope I didn't just sell my soul or my firstborn child or my virginity or something. That would kind of suck.
Oh, wonderful, el pater is home. Let's see what he wants.
He wants respect. Hmm... I wonder if I'm capable of that function... I think I lost it a good while ago.
Besides, he made me turn off my Marilyn Manson and Sisters of Mercy. That's got to be enough to get anyone's goat.
Oh, and he put me in an arm lock and spat on my face. Nice, non? That is the kind of family I live in.
The saliva shower may or may not have been unintentional.
Sexy shit, I'm pissed off. I want to go to a rave or drink inordinate amounts of hard liquor or get pregnant or something! Maybe all three. Noo, better not. The alcohol might interfere with the pregnancy. I have to be thinking about the future here. I guess I'll just listen to Slayer. That's better than nothing, right?
It's odd how Dad seems to think that nice, innocent music like Evanescence or Paramore will make you kill yourself and his subversive and evil and a tool of the New World Order government, but Cannibal Corpse and Behemoth are perfectly okay. I don't understand it, myself, but that may be because I am too "slow".
Or was it because I have no musical talent, sense, or ability? I forget.... It's so hard for my less than superior brain to hold on to facts, you know. Mind like a sieve, attitude like an MMA fighter. Kind of a problem. Maybe I should go to bodyguard school.
Oh, merde. The stupid idiot can NOT take a hint. "I'm about to leave for volunteering", I told him. "Can't talk long", I told him. But what does he do? He sits there and makes me talk to him for fourteen years while he details how much he wants to see me! RIDICULOUS. You want to see me so much, why don't you let me study and pass sophomore year so that I can graduate on time and be free to hang around your horrible self all day instead of spending every waking moment trying to get my GED? Dumbass. I really don't like him that much.
You know the idea that college students are practically too busy to take a shit? It's BS. Dammit, I'm sick to death of this. I wish I could just retire to LA and never have to deal with this again. Maybe I'll become an esoteric stripper. I can seductively slide down a glitter-encrusted pole and recite Socrates and Plato to entranced college professors and sophomoric graduate students and try to save up enough money so that I can get a degree in metaphysical philosophy. Sounds like a plan! Almost as lucrative as professional orchid growing!
Well, actually, no. There might be a market for that.

Dubstep sucks-step!

Holy hell, that's one G-D big ass heart!!
Sexy shit, I friggin love Glee. ♥ and those men.... mm-MM!
I took the AP exam today. I apparently can't discuss the essay questions, so I shan't, but... just know that one was contrasting two movements that rhyme with "blenlightenment" and "bwomanticism" and the other one was talking about how the countries of Europe could do something that rhymes with "bwoonite".
Damn, I think I should be a spy. I'm so good at disguising things.
Anyway, I think I did well on the exam. The DBQ was the best one I've ever written, and I actually finished my essays! Both! I put down my pen just when they told us too. I'm so good.
Ok, it's the next day.
I have some shameful news: Zac has grown addicted to dubstep. I know not if he can truly now be considered one of the family. Here he is, blasting "Herbalist" and extolling the virtues of rave backbeats while I'm trying to hold on to my sanity. So shameful.
One of our violin students, a mere fourth grader, has managed to memorize all fifty states, the capitals, and their locations on the map. I don't know how he did it. I can barely remember what state I live in most of the time (denial) and where it is on the map (a river in Egypt). I do, however, know the countries of Europe, their capitals, languages, and national flowers. I'm such a boss. Yeahhhhh, buddy. Uh-huh. Yup. I'm awesome.
Sadly, the only ones I can find on a map are France and Poland. (and Italy because it looks like a boot and England because it's an island.)
And questions about things like this ALWAYS show on practice tests and things! Seriously, I hardly even knew Montenegro was a country, let alone where it is. Why can't we just answer questions about France and Poland for all eternity? That would be so much easier. Oui.
I think we have students coming. Isn't that terrible? Tis the only way I have to earn a living. If I didn't work my ass off to teach these ungrateful little brats, I might have to be out on a street corner dealing drugs to ungrateful white brats! And that would suck. I see enough Hollister at school, thankyouveryeffingmuch.
I think this is slowing down the computer.
I shall publish.