I am completely energized from choreography now. I'm very bad at it, but I do derive a certain measure of entertainment from blithely leaping and bouncing atop the risers careless of time and place. So if I cause us to lose the competition, I shall at least have the satisfaction of knowing that I had a good time.
...Who am I kidding, I fuckin hate it.
So! Have I explained in full and descriptive detail my date with JTJ? *licks lips salaciously* Dayy-umm, that man is FIIIIIINE! He got an ass like ME! Wait, what?
So! The day after Valentine's Day (I got 10 valentines, by the by, NOT to brag or anything, just stating a pertinent fact), as I was walking with Allie from AP Euro to math, I stopped to put my folder into the choir room. (I had taken it home to learn my solo for Madonna as I am le understudy grande. FUUUUUUUUUU-) anyway, where was I? Oh yes. So as I was leaving, I tripped on something in the doorway. What could it be, I wondered? Slowly my eyes traveled up the length of a strangely familiar object. What was it? Oh yes, a leg. That's what it was called. And what was this spectacular leg doing here in my path to the sidewalk? Obviously, it was... at that particular moment, I lost my train of thought as I realized that attached to this leg was JTJ, and he was looking remarkably fine. "Hey," he said. "Gnnnnfrrgggh" I replied with alacrity. "What's up?" he continued. "Um...." said I, trying desperately to recall some of the tips in Cosmo for talking to extremely sexy guys. Was one supposed to flip one's hair and then cross one's legs, or the other way around? And did not this sequence of events necessitate a sitting position first? I realized it had been awhile since I had said anything. "Not much, you?" I asked suavely. Wonderful, he probably thought I was a moron. "I'm ok," he said. Well, this conversation was getting nowhere fast. Where the hell was Allie? Surely she would have something to add.I turned to my left, only to collide with a very startled looking Bonnie. "Hi," she said awkwardly, before running off to chitchat with HorseFace, probably about the wonderful Speech and Debate and Masturbate Club D'La Moronne. (Seriously, why do they like it so much? They are totally obsessed. It doesn't take mad skills to stand up and tout your own intelligence for half an hour! Talk show hosts do the same thing! And for much more pay, too.) "You busy on Thursday?" asked JTJ in his wonderfully sexy voice. (Actually, his voice is as annoying as fuck, but that doesn't make this story sound like a rejected romance novel from the 1970's, so let us gloss over that minor detail) "Not really!" I replied perkily. I knew what was coming, of course. Enough guys have asked me out that even I can see the signs. Plus I watch Glee. "Wanna go do something?" he asked, still trying to affect the "smooth" voice that would undoubtedly tug on my heart strings. It was certainly tugging on my patience. "Sure!" I said again, sounding like a hybrid between a cheerleader and an anime character. "Awesome," he said, and drifted off. Well! Welllll.... I floated over to Ivy and Allie, who may have for all I know been discussing world peace or the cure for cancer or the new album from My Chemical Romance or something equally wonderful. "Phweeehheeheheheeeee..." I sang. "I, he, that is, asked, I me, he..." "He asked her out," explained Allie, who had apparently been forewarned of this plan. "Yes, we, me, he... DAMN, HE IS FUCKIN SEXY!!!" I exploded at last, lacking milder words to express the joy in my soul. "When?" asked Ivy tersely, not impressed by my eloquence. "Thursdayyyyyy..." I sang again, then fell immediately to deciding what to wear. "Black? Or black and red?" I asked. "Or maybe nothing at-" "JASMINE!" interrupted Ivy conveniently. "This is so exciting!" chirped Bonnie, who, it appeared, knew of this as well. "I know, isn't it?" said Allie. "Jas has finally got a real man!" "Is he a REAL real man, though?" asked Karen seriously. "I heard he was totally gay." "Then why would he ask Jas out?" demanded Anna. Sexy shit, did the entire school know about this escapade? "Oh gosh..." I gasped. "He isn't just using me to prove his sexuality, is he?" "You'd certainly be good for that!" said Bonnie with a knowing wink. I knew it was a mistake to tell her about the Austin-cherry-popping-dick-boob fandango. Now the entire Speech team believes me to be a slut. (Actually, that's not really a new phenomena, so I shouldn't be worried) "No, he's not like that," said Anna reassuringly. "I think." Gee, thanks, hun. You really helped me out there. By this time, we had gotten to math, so we had to let our cheery gossip wait until Chem when Eva ambushed me. "Did he ask you?" she demanded. "Yeah, he-" I started to say, when a loathsome voice cut me off. "Whaaaaat's this? Jasmine got asked ouuuuuut? I didn't know the mental hospital had a visiting day!" It was Monsieur Le Pothead. "I guess they did, otherwise you wouldn't be here, right?" I asked him. He had to think about that one for a minute. "Um. Go die." he offered at last. Pot has a way of altering one's brain cell function in a deleterious manner. Poor boy, I must have wounded him deeply. It was a whole minute before he started asking me for my answers to the stoichiometry problems.
Still. La la, I'm happy!
Actually, no. After our little date (he even kissed me! Kyaah! And he's really bad at it! Tee hee!) he hasn't really talked to me much. So he probably finds me irritating.
SEXY SHIT! Speaking of irritating! Are ALL MEN so fucking OBNOXIOUS???!!!! Dad is being a total prickbag right now! Totally stupid. He is so ungrateful! I can't believe he has the temerity to try and dictate Mom's actions after she has done everything for him! Ugh, now he's trying to spy on me. Wonderful. I just love men, don't you?
Ok, I think I'll go eat a whole bunch of stuff and get fat as shit and be so unattractive that JTJ will hate me forever. Cause that's everyone's dream scenario, right?
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Yeah, it's short. Eff you.
Killer queen ♥
Hell yeah, that's me.
...I wish.
Dammit! I scored a date with Le Hotpot (HP) but after that he didn't really blow up my phone with texts, so I didn't text him back and he never said hi to me in AP Euro OR math, and so I think he hates me now! SEXY SHIT! The one effing time I get asked out by mi amour, he turns out to bear a deep grudge against my boobs! (Or something. I mean, he's a guy, so he should naturally think of me as sex in a skirt. Actually, that should be my new nickname. Sex-in-a-skirt. I like it! It has a more positive connotation than Le Stupid Cunt, which is the nickname I had previously been using for myself ever since the start of freshman year. More classy, don't you think?) Anyway, that's actually quite a problemo. He never made lewd comments fornication-ward, and never told me in exquisite detail the many attributes of his cock. Should I be worried? What the heck, of course I should. Besides the fact that he obviously does not like me, he may quite possibly be gay. Actually, I think he might be. He certainly acts like it. (Smart, hot, sexy, witty, nice, etc) Oh! Speaking of gay, I am almost absolutely certain that CTC and A are. I saw them smooching after class today and K said she saw them getting hot and heavy behind the risers after choreography. Day-ummm! What will happen when they break up? When CTC breaks up with A that is. She dated five guys in one month. That's worse than me! For a freshman, she sure gets around! Cough*slut*cough.
Maybe I shouldn't be badmouthing my own choir sister.
Wait, I'm not! Being a slut is a GOOD thing! Exhibit A, me!
Ok, bye.
Hell yeah, that's me.
...I wish.
Dammit! I scored a date with Le Hotpot (HP) but after that he didn't really blow up my phone with texts, so I didn't text him back and he never said hi to me in AP Euro OR math, and so I think he hates me now! SEXY SHIT! The one effing time I get asked out by mi amour, he turns out to bear a deep grudge against my boobs! (Or something. I mean, he's a guy, so he should naturally think of me as sex in a skirt. Actually, that should be my new nickname. Sex-in-a-skirt. I like it! It has a more positive connotation than Le Stupid Cunt, which is the nickname I had previously been using for myself ever since the start of freshman year. More classy, don't you think?) Anyway, that's actually quite a problemo. He never made lewd comments fornication-ward, and never told me in exquisite detail the many attributes of his cock. Should I be worried? What the heck, of course I should. Besides the fact that he obviously does not like me, he may quite possibly be gay. Actually, I think he might be. He certainly acts like it. (Smart, hot, sexy, witty, nice, etc) Oh! Speaking of gay, I am almost absolutely certain that CTC and A are. I saw them smooching after class today and K said she saw them getting hot and heavy behind the risers after choreography. Day-ummm! What will happen when they break up? When CTC breaks up with A that is. She dated five guys in one month. That's worse than me! For a freshman, she sure gets around! Cough*slut*cough.
Maybe I shouldn't be badmouthing my own choir sister.
Wait, I'm not! Being a slut is a GOOD thing! Exhibit A, me!
Ok, bye.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Darn ramblings.
So, I went out with Austin.
I'm just going to pretend that's it's NOT 3:30 in the morning right now, because this story is amusing and also centered on me and a cute boy and therefore needs to be told in extremity. So.
Yesterday I was staying up until all hours texting people, as per normal. (Btw, Sonia seems to think that I'm her personal psychologist or something. She has been texting me with very depressing and emo statements for the last several days, and also asking my opinion on the SAME DAMN SUBJECT for about the same duration. Sexy shit, what am I, a problem dump? I have feelings TOO! GOSH! *storms out*) Anyway... where was I? Ah, yes. So I was also texting Austin, because that is always amusing. He asked me what I was doing today (oh, how subtle-not), and when I said probably watching Glee and eating leftover chocolate cake, he said, and I quote, "u should slip some hang with Austin in there =)". So I said sure, and then today he came driving up in his red sports car and picked me up. We went to Gourmet Pizza. He bought mine! Hell yes! Not spending money is something I approve of vastly. After that, we walked around the city for awhile, and then got boba. He bought that for me too. Um, can I say total TURN-ON? There's nothing sexier than a guy who won't make you buy your own food. At any rate, he's actually a pretty interesting person (for a white guy). He actually understood what I said and didn't gawp like a goldfish with head trauma every time I used a word with more than two syllables, which is really a plus (Cough*Justin*cough). He is even not a conservative prick, and doesn't want to go to an Adventist college! And I can even be myself around him (ish), and by that I mean not worrying if I accidentally let fly a few f-bombs or so. And get this! He opened the door for me! OPENED THE FRIGGIN DOOR! Even the car door! I can't believe it! He was very chivalrous! Yet he didn't stare at my boobs or my ass, ask my bra size, suggest a game of truth-or-striptease, make jokes about my personal anatomy or the inferior mental condition of the feminine sex, or ask me what I would do if we happened to be stuck together in a small and very sexually charged room, so I cannot but help feeling that he doesn't like me. Oh well. He texted me tonight saying that he had had fun and thanks and we should go out again (!!!!!!) and also that I was "really damn cute". SHIT! This guy is either the most playing player or he's bored out of his friggin mind! I've NEVER seen a guy be that intelligible before! He only misspelled about 1% of his words! And he is... well, I gotta say it. Even if I am a disgrace to my family name, it must be said. HE IS A DAMN SEXY PIECE OF ASS! There. I have said it. Even if his voice is so low that it's practically impossible to discern over the sound of Down With The Sickness and Rise Against (Oh yes! We like the same music! Except he doesn't listen to a lot of opera... but oh well. No one I've met besides me and Maya does). And he bought me stuff! HE BOUGHT ME STUFF! This is the best date I've ever been on! I barely needed to restrain my sarcasm, because HE WAS DOING IT TOO! (Making sarcastic remarks, that is.) I'm so happy... La la la. ♪ To celebrate, I'm going to sleep until about four tomorrow. Probably because it's about four right now. That could have something to do with it, could it not? Perhaps. Oh dang. I stay up waaaaay too late girlfriend. But then again, Kitty and Zac are up too. What is this, the cohort of insomniacs or something? Probably.
Jade was happy about my newfound loverboy too.
AH HOT SHIT! Don't tell me I'm going to turn into one of those semen spewing psychopaths who never miss a chance to make a plug about their wonderful man! And by never, I mean NEVER. They would advertise his ass at your grandmother's funeral. PLEASE no. Oh yes, Jade is one. She is also dating a fifteen year old. ANd she is eighteen. But it's ok, because they "love" each other. Have I mentioned that he's fifteen? And that they have only met online, have never talked, and have never seen anything more than "real" pictures? And that they have cybersex? ANd that occasionally SHE initiates it? Oh flipping wallaby diapers, she's fucking desperate. I am positive that he is a fifty year old man in actuality. And she tries to lecture me? Seriously! Can you spell hypocrite? She has, it seems, been misspelling her name on all her papers. I hope the professors don't decide to take points off for that.
Nine Inch Nails, man, Nine Inch Nails.
Gotta love them.
Austin does.
SHIT, brain, SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Really now. We can't have you sounding like a brain impaired junior high school student (or anyone currently in Jersey Shore for that matter).
Or Sonia.
Honestly, she still likes JTJ! Really ridiculous. I can't believe that she's so serious about him. He's just a normal guy! He wears pants like everybody else! Although if he didn't, I'm not sure that would send him up in her esteem with a noticeable prejudice. She seems to be a modest, not-wanting-in-the-sack-on-the-first-date kind of gal. Isn't there a name for that? Ah yes. SHIPOOPI. You know, for the longest time, I never realized that was from an actual musical. I always thought it was an original from Seth McFarlane and his Cavalcade of Cartoon Comedy, but there you go. Just goes to show how much I know.
I would swallow my pride
I would choke on the rinds
But the lack thereof would leave me empty inside
I would swallow my doubt
Turn it inside out
Find nothing but faith in nothing
I would put my tender
Heart in a blender
Watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion
Rendezvous, then I'm through with you....
I sure do have eclectic taste in music. Eve 6? Really? I've gone soft. Maybe I should dig up that old German slaughtering tribe band again? I may have missed their charm the first time. After all, chants about sodomy and necrophilia have a way of creating a negative first impression, but they would probably grow on you if you indulged in them a bit more.
Same with Cannibal Corpse. I may have found his apparent mental instability a bit unnerving at first, but if I really took the time to listen to such deceptively tender love songs such as Hammer Smashed Face and Make Them Suffer, I'm sure I could really learn to see the genius in the process, not to mention the execution.
It's all just a matter of acclimation, really.
Now whomever so reads this in the future will think that I'm a raving sociopath who listens to death metal all day. That is... not true. Not. True. I also listen to nihilistic metal.
But at any rate, I'm not as depraved as those who would wantonly listen to Justin Bieber and Hannah Montana, so I suppose whatever I do is in the clear.
I kind of want to go outside now. Like, go out and ride around the streets like the vampire child that I am. Except it's too cold. That's the only problem.
SHIT.
I'm just going to pretend that's it's NOT 3:30 in the morning right now, because this story is amusing and also centered on me and a cute boy and therefore needs to be told in extremity. So.
Yesterday I was staying up until all hours texting people, as per normal. (Btw, Sonia seems to think that I'm her personal psychologist or something. She has been texting me with very depressing and emo statements for the last several days, and also asking my opinion on the SAME DAMN SUBJECT for about the same duration. Sexy shit, what am I, a problem dump? I have feelings TOO! GOSH! *storms out*) Anyway... where was I? Ah, yes. So I was also texting Austin, because that is always amusing. He asked me what I was doing today (oh, how subtle-not), and when I said probably watching Glee and eating leftover chocolate cake, he said, and I quote, "u should slip some hang with Austin in there =)". So I said sure, and then today he came driving up in his red sports car and picked me up. We went to Gourmet Pizza. He bought mine! Hell yes! Not spending money is something I approve of vastly. After that, we walked around the city for awhile, and then got boba. He bought that for me too. Um, can I say total TURN-ON? There's nothing sexier than a guy who won't make you buy your own food. At any rate, he's actually a pretty interesting person (for a white guy). He actually understood what I said and didn't gawp like a goldfish with head trauma every time I used a word with more than two syllables, which is really a plus (Cough*Justin*cough). He is even not a conservative prick, and doesn't want to go to an Adventist college! And I can even be myself around him (ish), and by that I mean not worrying if I accidentally let fly a few f-bombs or so. And get this! He opened the door for me! OPENED THE FRIGGIN DOOR! Even the car door! I can't believe it! He was very chivalrous! Yet he didn't stare at my boobs or my ass, ask my bra size, suggest a game of truth-or-striptease, make jokes about my personal anatomy or the inferior mental condition of the feminine sex, or ask me what I would do if we happened to be stuck together in a small and very sexually charged room, so I cannot but help feeling that he doesn't like me. Oh well. He texted me tonight saying that he had had fun and thanks and we should go out again (!!!!!!) and also that I was "really damn cute". SHIT! This guy is either the most playing player or he's bored out of his friggin mind! I've NEVER seen a guy be that intelligible before! He only misspelled about 1% of his words! And he is... well, I gotta say it. Even if I am a disgrace to my family name, it must be said. HE IS A DAMN SEXY PIECE OF ASS! There. I have said it. Even if his voice is so low that it's practically impossible to discern over the sound of Down With The Sickness and Rise Against (Oh yes! We like the same music! Except he doesn't listen to a lot of opera... but oh well. No one I've met besides me and Maya does). And he bought me stuff! HE BOUGHT ME STUFF! This is the best date I've ever been on! I barely needed to restrain my sarcasm, because HE WAS DOING IT TOO! (Making sarcastic remarks, that is.) I'm so happy... La la la. ♪ To celebrate, I'm going to sleep until about four tomorrow. Probably because it's about four right now. That could have something to do with it, could it not? Perhaps. Oh dang. I stay up waaaaay too late girlfriend. But then again, Kitty and Zac are up too. What is this, the cohort of insomniacs or something? Probably.
Jade was happy about my newfound loverboy too.
AH HOT SHIT! Don't tell me I'm going to turn into one of those semen spewing psychopaths who never miss a chance to make a plug about their wonderful man! And by never, I mean NEVER. They would advertise his ass at your grandmother's funeral. PLEASE no. Oh yes, Jade is one. She is also dating a fifteen year old. ANd she is eighteen. But it's ok, because they "love" each other. Have I mentioned that he's fifteen? And that they have only met online, have never talked, and have never seen anything more than "real" pictures? And that they have cybersex? ANd that occasionally SHE initiates it? Oh flipping wallaby diapers, she's fucking desperate. I am positive that he is a fifty year old man in actuality. And she tries to lecture me? Seriously! Can you spell hypocrite? She has, it seems, been misspelling her name on all her papers. I hope the professors don't decide to take points off for that.
Nine Inch Nails, man, Nine Inch Nails.
Gotta love them.
Austin does.
SHIT, brain, SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Really now. We can't have you sounding like a brain impaired junior high school student (or anyone currently in Jersey Shore for that matter).
Or Sonia.
Honestly, she still likes JTJ! Really ridiculous. I can't believe that she's so serious about him. He's just a normal guy! He wears pants like everybody else! Although if he didn't, I'm not sure that would send him up in her esteem with a noticeable prejudice. She seems to be a modest, not-wanting-in-the-sack-on-the-first-date kind of gal. Isn't there a name for that? Ah yes. SHIPOOPI. You know, for the longest time, I never realized that was from an actual musical. I always thought it was an original from Seth McFarlane and his Cavalcade of Cartoon Comedy, but there you go. Just goes to show how much I know.
I would swallow my pride
I would choke on the rinds
But the lack thereof would leave me empty inside
I would swallow my doubt
Turn it inside out
Find nothing but faith in nothing
I would put my tender
Heart in a blender
Watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion
Rendezvous, then I'm through with you....
I sure do have eclectic taste in music. Eve 6? Really? I've gone soft. Maybe I should dig up that old German slaughtering tribe band again? I may have missed their charm the first time. After all, chants about sodomy and necrophilia have a way of creating a negative first impression, but they would probably grow on you if you indulged in them a bit more.
Same with Cannibal Corpse. I may have found his apparent mental instability a bit unnerving at first, but if I really took the time to listen to such deceptively tender love songs such as Hammer Smashed Face and Make Them Suffer, I'm sure I could really learn to see the genius in the process, not to mention the execution.
It's all just a matter of acclimation, really.
Now whomever so reads this in the future will think that I'm a raving sociopath who listens to death metal all day. That is... not true. Not. True. I also listen to nihilistic metal.
But at any rate, I'm not as depraved as those who would wantonly listen to Justin Bieber and Hannah Montana, so I suppose whatever I do is in the clear.
I kind of want to go outside now. Like, go out and ride around the streets like the vampire child that I am. Except it's too cold. That's the only problem.
SHIT.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Rain ♥
It's so dark in here that I can hardly see the keyboard. And it's only 3:07! This is cause for rejoicing. (I'm a vampire, so I neither love nor need the light.)
It's raining again. This is a happy-making thing that makes me, er, happy...
Oh shit, whatever. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.
So this "morning", I came downstairs, bright and early at 2:15 to eat some breakfast. I thought I'd partake of the food that I so kindly absconded with yesterday after the never-ending cantata, but some fool had eaten it all! I mean, really, how rude. I go to all the trouble of sneaking away with it (and let me tell you, it was no easy feat) and then what happens? It disappears down the gullet of some ravenous relative! Honestly.
I want to go shopping. I need to buy presents for my friends, or at least a few of them, and I want to take more photobooth pictures. I don't have enough. I want to make a collage out of pictures (of me, naturally) and put it into the front of my binder so that I can stare at something when Mr. Annoying English Teacher is droning on and on and staring at me so I can't draw (he seems to think it's a crime against humanity for a girl to engage in some harmless amusement during the idle hours of third period or something). So I, as you see, need to go take some pictures. Allie, Sophia, Lia, and several others all want to go with me. So does KiKi. *SNICKER* That child needs a lot more than a shopping trip, believe ME... Actually, she's not really a child, is she. She's eighteen. And she has been eighteen for some time. Is it not odd that she is still in high school? And that she does not know how to write a three paragraph essay? And that I have seen kindergarteners with better writing than her? It is. And her drawings! Oh my, it is hilarious to see the airs she puts on about them. She has decided to start up a manga magazine. This is a lovely idea in theory, but when all the characters of said manga look like retarded dinosaurs, it is perhaps best to start in on a new vocation (such as maybe learning what calculus is). Even worse, she has recruited Kitty and me to help her out. I was happy at first to do this, because I do like to draw, and though no Tokyopop would ever hire me for my talent, I do have to admit that one can at least tell what I'm trying to depict 99% of the time. But then KiKi decided that I wasn't good enough for her, and gave away my promised spot in the magazine to some "girl" she met online. I believe that this person is actually a fifty year old man, but there you have it. I am, as we all know, rather pessimistic. I don't care THAT much, but it is rather annoying, especially when she starts complaining that I never do anything.Tell that to the voluminous tomes that I have made out of the hardworkingness of my own procrastination. Oh! And her smelly brother who STILL likes me? He does NOTHING! LESS than nothing! He does NEGATIVE effort! So she needn't be touting Kitty's and my indolence as a source of damnation! Sexy shit. This chick.
If she IS a chick. She has the most enormous amount of pubic hair that I have ever seen.
And I know this because she decided to change in front of me.
Bless my soul, I don't know how I survived that day.
...HOT PATOOTIE, BLESS MY SOUL! I REALLY LOVE THAT ROCK AND ROLL!
Rocky Horror Show ftw. ♥
So I think I'm going to actually do my studying ahead of time during this break. On Thanksgiving break, I was up until four on Sunday desperately trying to finish my assignments ere broke the dawn. I had a lot too. EVERYONE assigned something, even choir. We had to write concert reports. Ugh. So THIS time, I'm going to do EVERYTHING! And then I can play for the rest of the break! Or study, more likely. Actually, I don't even have anything except AP Euro. And in that, I just have to read and do some IDs. Which should be extremely easy. Oh happy joyful day of joyous happiness....
I'm going to go take a picture of the persimmon tree in the rain. It looks bomb. And by bomb, I mean like a set off of some emo movie about depression in a time of sadness. Lovely! ♥
It's raining again. This is a happy-making thing that makes me, er, happy...
Oh shit, whatever. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.
So this "morning", I came downstairs, bright and early at 2:15 to eat some breakfast. I thought I'd partake of the food that I so kindly absconded with yesterday after the never-ending cantata, but some fool had eaten it all! I mean, really, how rude. I go to all the trouble of sneaking away with it (and let me tell you, it was no easy feat) and then what happens? It disappears down the gullet of some ravenous relative! Honestly.
I want to go shopping. I need to buy presents for my friends, or at least a few of them, and I want to take more photobooth pictures. I don't have enough. I want to make a collage out of pictures (of me, naturally) and put it into the front of my binder so that I can stare at something when Mr. Annoying English Teacher is droning on and on and staring at me so I can't draw (he seems to think it's a crime against humanity for a girl to engage in some harmless amusement during the idle hours of third period or something). So I, as you see, need to go take some pictures. Allie, Sophia, Lia, and several others all want to go with me. So does KiKi. *SNICKER* That child needs a lot more than a shopping trip, believe ME... Actually, she's not really a child, is she. She's eighteen. And she has been eighteen for some time. Is it not odd that she is still in high school? And that she does not know how to write a three paragraph essay? And that I have seen kindergarteners with better writing than her? It is. And her drawings! Oh my, it is hilarious to see the airs she puts on about them. She has decided to start up a manga magazine. This is a lovely idea in theory, but when all the characters of said manga look like retarded dinosaurs, it is perhaps best to start in on a new vocation (such as maybe learning what calculus is). Even worse, she has recruited Kitty and me to help her out. I was happy at first to do this, because I do like to draw, and though no Tokyopop would ever hire me for my talent, I do have to admit that one can at least tell what I'm trying to depict 99% of the time. But then KiKi decided that I wasn't good enough for her, and gave away my promised spot in the magazine to some "girl" she met online. I believe that this person is actually a fifty year old man, but there you have it. I am, as we all know, rather pessimistic. I don't care THAT much, but it is rather annoying, especially when she starts complaining that I never do anything.Tell that to the voluminous tomes that I have made out of the hardworkingness of my own procrastination. Oh! And her smelly brother who STILL likes me? He does NOTHING! LESS than nothing! He does NEGATIVE effort! So she needn't be touting Kitty's and my indolence as a source of damnation! Sexy shit. This chick.
If she IS a chick. She has the most enormous amount of pubic hair that I have ever seen.
And I know this because she decided to change in front of me.
Bless my soul, I don't know how I survived that day.
...HOT PATOOTIE, BLESS MY SOUL! I REALLY LOVE THAT ROCK AND ROLL!
Rocky Horror Show ftw. ♥
So I think I'm going to actually do my studying ahead of time during this break. On Thanksgiving break, I was up until four on Sunday desperately trying to finish my assignments ere broke the dawn. I had a lot too. EVERYONE assigned something, even choir. We had to write concert reports. Ugh. So THIS time, I'm going to do EVERYTHING! And then I can play for the rest of the break! Or study, more likely. Actually, I don't even have anything except AP Euro. And in that, I just have to read and do some IDs. Which should be extremely easy. Oh happy joyful day of joyous happiness....
I'm going to go take a picture of the persimmon tree in the rain. It looks bomb. And by bomb, I mean like a set off of some emo movie about depression in a time of sadness. Lovely! ♥
Ffffff-
Oh FML, I'm so stupid, I think I should go die! I have a 2.98 because I didn't study because I'm too smart for the classes that I'm taking! But my life is terrible anyway! And therefore you guys all should have terrible lives too! Wait! What's that? You're not interested in hearing me say the same whiny thing for the seventh consecutive time? I HATE YOU! HOW DARE YOU MOTHERFUCKER! Ooohh, FML....
Just shut the eff up, Zac. Enough of your pediatric puling. We're not in fifth grade anymore, so please desist with your attempts at manliness. Being rough and tough and confrontational does not make you a "bro", it makes you a dickpad. And no one wants a dickpad around except walking vaginas. And I don't think you'd enjoy hanging out with a walking vagina very much. They tend to have assholes for neighbors.
Oh, what a pleasant and lovely family we have. The dad hates any and every sound, except for the sound of his own voice. He also apparently hates us. The mom is so self sacrificing that it is sad. The older brother is a whiny, bratty, smartassed college student who thinks that he is the shiznit of the earth (and is the shiznit of the town). The sister is a sharp tongued little artist who looks like a model and never stops complaining about how fat she is. The youngest brother is a brat as well, a hyper, snappish, internet addicted child who looks at least three years younger than he actually is. And me? Stupid, fat, and ugly, and convinced that I'm a genius because I manage to ace my honor classes with minimal to no effort, and possessed of a hypocritical and evil personality that never really manifests itself because I always act like an anime character. Wonderful. We are of the most perfect genetic material ever. We should become the templates for a new generation.
Dear me. Now we are all discussing the most effective ways of killing someone. Personally, I think criminals on death row should just be locked up with Dad for awhile and they will emerge as detritivore fodder. The efficacy of a discourse on demons, plastics, crop circles, and mass brainwashing is unparalleled.
So.... I'm on winter break now... It's amazing. Although somewhat lonely. I miss everyone already. Oh, how sad, I sound like a farmer. Wait, what? Oh my....
Singer songwriter, hmm? How smart do you have to be to do that? Songs are ridiculously easy to make, and you can have a voice like a sieve (i.e none) and still be famous, i.e Lady GaGa and Justin Beiber. (No, Bieber? Or is it Beiber? Dammit, these Canadian people...) Oh well. I think I will make a song now. It will be lovely and beautiful. It will be.... it will be one of my favorite WTF songs!
Indeed! This one is called Rose Of Decay. (Isn't that a sexy name?)
Fading, falling, death on death
Lying on the snow
Living like a flower
A million years ago
In the moonlight fading
In the dark lit sun
Wishes pay it nothing
Till everything is done
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend
Bleeding with diamonds
Gashes of gold
Treasures that everyone
Would die to behold
Richer than a king
Darker than a tomb
Festering bony fingers
Sweep a gilded room
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend
Reach for tomorrow
Stretch out your hand
Hear the angel calling for you
Heed the sharp command
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend!
Ohhh, I am a fucking genius. That song is soooo morbid! I am a veritable Orpheus. (Hopefully more intelligent though. And female.) Unless I am a hermaphrodite. Could that be? I have the hairiest upper lip known to man. I have to pluck the sides of it so as not to appear to be role-playing as King Kong. Pluck it! Is that not ridiculous? Maybe I should go in for one of those surgeries where they remove your hair follicles. But then what would happen if some evil villain kidnapped me and would only set me free if I donated the hair follicles in my upper lip? I wouldn't have any! And so I'd be screwed. That would be terrible! I think maybe it's better to keep my money, er, I mean nobly withdraw my petition for vanity in favor of some other unfortunate and let the hairs grow free and wild. They are, after all, just as much a part of me as my feet, and I don't go around plucking off my feet, do I? But that may have something to do with the fact that upper lip hairs manifest themselves again and again and feet typically do not, unless you are one of those salamanders or something. Er, no, salamanders regenerate their tails. Well, something like that. I never claimed to be a naturalist.
I was forced to attend the world's longest orchestra rehearsal today. Sort of an orchestra, at any rate. It consisted of (besides my family and myself) two rather talentless violinists, a bored looking cello, and about fifteen saxophones.
Oh, lovely, I must needs go.
Farewell.
Just shut the eff up, Zac. Enough of your pediatric puling. We're not in fifth grade anymore, so please desist with your attempts at manliness. Being rough and tough and confrontational does not make you a "bro", it makes you a dickpad. And no one wants a dickpad around except walking vaginas. And I don't think you'd enjoy hanging out with a walking vagina very much. They tend to have assholes for neighbors.
Oh, what a pleasant and lovely family we have. The dad hates any and every sound, except for the sound of his own voice. He also apparently hates us. The mom is so self sacrificing that it is sad. The older brother is a whiny, bratty, smartassed college student who thinks that he is the shiznit of the earth (and is the shiznit of the town). The sister is a sharp tongued little artist who looks like a model and never stops complaining about how fat she is. The youngest brother is a brat as well, a hyper, snappish, internet addicted child who looks at least three years younger than he actually is. And me? Stupid, fat, and ugly, and convinced that I'm a genius because I manage to ace my honor classes with minimal to no effort, and possessed of a hypocritical and evil personality that never really manifests itself because I always act like an anime character. Wonderful. We are of the most perfect genetic material ever. We should become the templates for a new generation.
Dear me. Now we are all discussing the most effective ways of killing someone. Personally, I think criminals on death row should just be locked up with Dad for awhile and they will emerge as detritivore fodder. The efficacy of a discourse on demons, plastics, crop circles, and mass brainwashing is unparalleled.
So.... I'm on winter break now... It's amazing. Although somewhat lonely. I miss everyone already. Oh, how sad, I sound like a farmer. Wait, what? Oh my....
Singer songwriter, hmm? How smart do you have to be to do that? Songs are ridiculously easy to make, and you can have a voice like a sieve (i.e none) and still be famous, i.e Lady GaGa and Justin Beiber. (No, Bieber? Or is it Beiber? Dammit, these Canadian people...) Oh well. I think I will make a song now. It will be lovely and beautiful. It will be.... it will be one of my favorite WTF songs!
Indeed! This one is called Rose Of Decay. (Isn't that a sexy name?)
Fading, falling, death on death
Lying on the snow
Living like a flower
A million years ago
In the moonlight fading
In the dark lit sun
Wishes pay it nothing
Till everything is done
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend
Bleeding with diamonds
Gashes of gold
Treasures that everyone
Would die to behold
Richer than a king
Darker than a tomb
Festering bony fingers
Sweep a gilded room
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend
Reach for tomorrow
Stretch out your hand
Hear the angel calling for you
Heed the sharp command
Dancing forever
Rose of decay
Swirling in the moonlight
Never fade away
Watching forever
Never reach the end
Dying a death that
Life cannot defend!
Ohhh, I am a fucking genius. That song is soooo morbid! I am a veritable Orpheus. (Hopefully more intelligent though. And female.) Unless I am a hermaphrodite. Could that be? I have the hairiest upper lip known to man. I have to pluck the sides of it so as not to appear to be role-playing as King Kong. Pluck it! Is that not ridiculous? Maybe I should go in for one of those surgeries where they remove your hair follicles. But then what would happen if some evil villain kidnapped me and would only set me free if I donated the hair follicles in my upper lip? I wouldn't have any! And so I'd be screwed. That would be terrible! I think maybe it's better to keep my money, er, I mean nobly withdraw my petition for vanity in favor of some other unfortunate and let the hairs grow free and wild. They are, after all, just as much a part of me as my feet, and I don't go around plucking off my feet, do I? But that may have something to do with the fact that upper lip hairs manifest themselves again and again and feet typically do not, unless you are one of those salamanders or something. Er, no, salamanders regenerate their tails. Well, something like that. I never claimed to be a naturalist.
I was forced to attend the world's longest orchestra rehearsal today. Sort of an orchestra, at any rate. It consisted of (besides my family and myself) two rather talentless violinists, a bored looking cello, and about fifteen saxophones.
Oh, lovely, I must needs go.
Farewell.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Of Rice and Men (HA see what I did there?)
I got the new My Chemical Romance album. ♥
Hot Topic is t3h aw3some!!!1!!1 liek omg!
Ok.
So right now Zac is freaking out because he doesn't have a 4.0 in college right now. This is because he never tries at anything and still expects it to come settle down on his transcript like a fairy of kindness and hope. Gee, I wonder why... I have problems with math and therefore have a 3.9 but do you hear me complaining? Oh. Problems. Math. Ha, I am a veritable genius of puns and witticisms. I should become a night show host.
Some creepy chick just called Zac on his phone. Twice. I wonder what could be going on here? Maybe it's something like in The Ring where you have to call the person before they die or something. Oh, wait... that's not The Ring.... that's something else entirely. Oh well. That then.
I sincerely hope it's not that.
Today at church KiKi decided to have some more emo moments. Damn annoying. I wonder if she thinks it's attractive or something. Perhaps she secretly believes in her heart of hearts (as opposed to her heart of livers and her heart of stem cells) that she can best me at the depressed-evil-pissed-at-life-and-your-face look and therefore should do it as much as humanly possible. If this is the case, she is sadly mistaken, for no one can best me at that look. No one. Not even the queen of depression-nefariousness-angry-at-life-and-thy-countenance land herself (if there is indeed such a land)(and if there is, I want to go there). It is really quite ridiculous to imagine that a sweet, righteous, clean-cut, Christian, like herself could possibly emulate and best a malevolent, evil, dirty hoe like me. (The fact that I too profess to be a Christian has little or no bearing on the case, for, as we all know, a person's soul is but the inner trappings of a truly kind and conservatively dressed human being.) But then again, she is superior to me in all regards, so perhaps the competition is not as stacked as I at first presumed it to be.
Dammit, I need to get laid.
Right now I'm supposed to be writing my paper on school prayer. It's fucking annoying. It's not like he's even going to read it. All I need to do is slap some well-formatted parenthetical citation in there and write in a header and I'm guaranteed a perfect score. However, my classmates seem to have not found this out yet, judging from the grades on the wall. It is really quite appalling. If it were this hard to get an A in English, most college professors would be out of a job. And if this is supposed to be an honor's class, I really would be curious to see the regular ones. The essays must be rather amusing. Even Bonnie can't seem to get a 9, so how could Twitty McFuckFace ever hope to compete? Not to toot my own horn (ooh la la!), but nines really just grow on trees. A few strategically placed "evince"s and "therefore"s will get you further than a two page outline. Outlining is embarrassingly useless anyway. NOT that it would matter, because our teacher doesn't even READ THE FUCKING ESSAYS!! Sexy shit. And I thought LAST year's English class was bad.
Anyway. I went to Homecoming with Nathan. It was interesting. He bought a ticket for me, kindly, but then deigned to skimp on ten dollars. Maybe he was wondering if I would notice. At any rate, I got my ticket mostly free of charge, and the money I did pay wasn't even mine to begin with, so it was fine. I got a dress at some cheapo discount place because everything else was closed. I was happy though. The second I came out of the changing room, Sonia, Kitty, and Mom all went "YESS!!" So I got it. It was way too girly for me, but whatever. It's homecoming, right? It was red silk, knee length, with a big bow on one shoulder and nothing on the other. (It was one-strap. Ya feels me?) It also had this very flattering waist with a nice tight sash on the back. I got these HOT silver flats that were actually open-toed and had a shiny diamond-type thing on the side, a silver clutch purse, and a silver bracelet made out of a ball chain. I put a red ribbon around my head and left my hair loose and THEN left off most of my makeup. I got so many compliments it was really ridiculous. Maybe I shouldn't wear so much makeup every day? Nah. I need to. Anyway, Nathan got me a corsage, and we went out to eat. We are both so sarcastic that the conversation really got nowhere with regard to self discovery (and all that crap) and besides I don't like anyone to know anything about me anyway. It was hella fun though! So then we went and picked up Sonia, and we all went in. There was karaoke, so of course I went there and sang with a lot of my friends. Soooo fun! (And when fifteen of us belted out Bohemian Rhapsody, complete with hand motions and interpretive dance, it was downright inspirational!) One amusing incident also occurred. I decided to sing I'm With You by myself, so I went up and started singing it. I was having the time of my young life, when up walked Justin The Juicy. (Damn that boy is FINE!) I turned a bit idiotic and began putting a lot of feeling into it, and apparently JTJ liked that aspect, because he casually and nonchalantly walked over to a nearby pillar and positioned himself behind it, looking for all the world like a James Bond impersonator. He crossed his arms and legs (one over the other, still standing, although if he had sat down it would have been even more amusing) and proceeded to stand with an affected pose of blase for the duration of my song. He probably would have lit a cigarette, but it was against the rules. When I had finished singing, he skulked off again amid the applause of the obviously tipsy onlookers. (Who else but a drunkard would applaud my voice?) (Although the results were even more dramatic with I Will Always Love You. I didn't know the tune and improvised a great deal, but I did get the high notes as I am a true first soprano (toot toot horn) and therefore apparently was impressive. Nathan wouldn't shut up about it until I started talking about football. You see how desperate I became.) Oh, those memories... I had the time of my life! The only fly in my ointment was that Sonia still loved JTJ at that point, and was sad because he was there. I asked Nathan if he could induce JTJ to hang out with us, but was met with disappointment because apparently JTJ was with "some random girl". SEXY FUCK! That ass! How dare he! You see what a kind and caring friend I am. It is not just because I wanted to hang out with him too. Not at all. I am more sympathetic to a cause of broken heartedness than that.
Nathan appeared to be moonstruck. Over me, too. How fucking weird.
We do still talk now, which is quite good, but I want someone to make a move on me. I'm flirting with a lot of guys, but no one will DO anything CONCLUSIVE which is really obnoxious because it's almost the end of first semester and I haven't had a boyfriend yet this year! I'm a loser. I know. There must be something really wrong with me.
Not enough cleavage perhaps.
I have been more modest (ish) this year, which is really surprising. I thought for sure I'd continue my reputation, but I'm apparently falling down on the job. Which is also depressing. I need to get some more low shirts.
Ugh, thanksgiving break is almost over..... How annoying. Although everything is kind of annoying at this point. At least I'll get to see everyone.... I only saw Sonia and Allie through the whole week. Fail. I have become a recluse of reclusiveness. Oh, Jade did come over a couple times, and we went shopping, but she's practically part of the family now... so I'm still a recluse of reclusiveness. How sad for me. Maybe I can write some Poe-etry. HA I am so full of amusement, punnishness and witticism.
...I think we have established this earlier in the entry.
Maybe I should go to bed... It's too late to be up like this. Actually, no it's not, but it's raining (RAINING BLOOOOD!) and I want to actually snuggle up in a warm bed with rain for more than three hours. (Not to say the rain is in my bed, but merely... eh, forget it. Ignorance is bliss.) Oh.... that previous Slayer reference made me look kind of psychotic didn't it.... My apologies.
But now... I'm scared to go to bed! The Ring, man! The fucking Ring! Or else Saw, because that isn't exactly lovely for sweet dreams either. DAMMIT! This happens to me all the time! Once I decided to browse for some new music on Youtube (as you do). I found this song called She's Dead by some screwy band or other. Oh, ok, I thought. This looks interesting! So I clicked on it, and immediately was inundated with beautiful imagery of the lyrical masterpiece. "She's deeeeeeaaaadddd..." wailed the lead singer, obviously in some kind of physical torment or other. "I crushed her head," added one of the backup singers cheerfully. Then they started chanting in German. I mean, please! If you're going to be inconsiderate enough to start singing about ritual sacrifice, at LEAST have the common courtesy to do it in a language that we can all understand! Although probably that was a blessing in disguise because the lyrics appeared to translate to an orgy of blood and sodomization. (sodomize? Yeah?) Not that this would bother me, but when they started getting hot and heavy with the corpse I decided to close the window and listen to some nice, inoffensive Anthrax. However, that night I couldn't sleep for fear of one of these noble men coming into the window and getting themselves some new subject matter at my expense. Eventually I just crept downstairs and finished my homework. But anyway! This whole thing about going to bed early is nice and all but it just doesn't work when you are convinced that there is a rabid pack of flesh eating ax murderers lodged in your closet and Justin Beiber is under your bed! It is an "armchair theory". I am sure that I will never be a respectable hermit.
Not when there are German slaughtering tribes in the music industry anyway.
Hot Topic is t3h aw3some!!!1!!1 liek omg!
Ok.
So right now Zac is freaking out because he doesn't have a 4.0 in college right now. This is because he never tries at anything and still expects it to come settle down on his transcript like a fairy of kindness and hope. Gee, I wonder why... I have problems with math and therefore have a 3.9 but do you hear me complaining? Oh. Problems. Math. Ha, I am a veritable genius of puns and witticisms. I should become a night show host.
Some creepy chick just called Zac on his phone. Twice. I wonder what could be going on here? Maybe it's something like in The Ring where you have to call the person before they die or something. Oh, wait... that's not The Ring.... that's something else entirely. Oh well. That then.
I sincerely hope it's not that.
Today at church KiKi decided to have some more emo moments. Damn annoying. I wonder if she thinks it's attractive or something. Perhaps she secretly believes in her heart of hearts (as opposed to her heart of livers and her heart of stem cells) that she can best me at the depressed-evil-pissed-at-life-and-your-face look and therefore should do it as much as humanly possible. If this is the case, she is sadly mistaken, for no one can best me at that look. No one. Not even the queen of depression-nefariousness-angry-at-life-and-thy-countenance land herself (if there is indeed such a land)(and if there is, I want to go there). It is really quite ridiculous to imagine that a sweet, righteous, clean-cut, Christian, like herself could possibly emulate and best a malevolent, evil, dirty hoe like me. (The fact that I too profess to be a Christian has little or no bearing on the case, for, as we all know, a person's soul is but the inner trappings of a truly kind and conservatively dressed human being.) But then again, she is superior to me in all regards, so perhaps the competition is not as stacked as I at first presumed it to be.
Dammit, I need to get laid.
Right now I'm supposed to be writing my paper on school prayer. It's fucking annoying. It's not like he's even going to read it. All I need to do is slap some well-formatted parenthetical citation in there and write in a header and I'm guaranteed a perfect score. However, my classmates seem to have not found this out yet, judging from the grades on the wall. It is really quite appalling. If it were this hard to get an A in English, most college professors would be out of a job. And if this is supposed to be an honor's class, I really would be curious to see the regular ones. The essays must be rather amusing. Even Bonnie can't seem to get a 9, so how could Twitty McFuckFace ever hope to compete? Not to toot my own horn (ooh la la!), but nines really just grow on trees. A few strategically placed "evince"s and "therefore"s will get you further than a two page outline. Outlining is embarrassingly useless anyway. NOT that it would matter, because our teacher doesn't even READ THE FUCKING ESSAYS!! Sexy shit. And I thought LAST year's English class was bad.
Anyway. I went to Homecoming with Nathan. It was interesting. He bought a ticket for me, kindly, but then deigned to skimp on ten dollars. Maybe he was wondering if I would notice. At any rate, I got my ticket mostly free of charge, and the money I did pay wasn't even mine to begin with, so it was fine. I got a dress at some cheapo discount place because everything else was closed. I was happy though. The second I came out of the changing room, Sonia, Kitty, and Mom all went "YESS!!" So I got it. It was way too girly for me, but whatever. It's homecoming, right? It was red silk, knee length, with a big bow on one shoulder and nothing on the other. (It was one-strap. Ya feels me?) It also had this very flattering waist with a nice tight sash on the back. I got these HOT silver flats that were actually open-toed and had a shiny diamond-type thing on the side, a silver clutch purse, and a silver bracelet made out of a ball chain. I put a red ribbon around my head and left my hair loose and THEN left off most of my makeup. I got so many compliments it was really ridiculous. Maybe I shouldn't wear so much makeup every day? Nah. I need to. Anyway, Nathan got me a corsage, and we went out to eat. We are both so sarcastic that the conversation really got nowhere with regard to self discovery (and all that crap) and besides I don't like anyone to know anything about me anyway. It was hella fun though! So then we went and picked up Sonia, and we all went in. There was karaoke, so of course I went there and sang with a lot of my friends. Soooo fun! (And when fifteen of us belted out Bohemian Rhapsody, complete with hand motions and interpretive dance, it was downright inspirational!) One amusing incident also occurred. I decided to sing I'm With You by myself, so I went up and started singing it. I was having the time of my young life, when up walked Justin The Juicy. (Damn that boy is FINE!) I turned a bit idiotic and began putting a lot of feeling into it, and apparently JTJ liked that aspect, because he casually and nonchalantly walked over to a nearby pillar and positioned himself behind it, looking for all the world like a James Bond impersonator. He crossed his arms and legs (one over the other, still standing, although if he had sat down it would have been even more amusing) and proceeded to stand with an affected pose of blase for the duration of my song. He probably would have lit a cigarette, but it was against the rules. When I had finished singing, he skulked off again amid the applause of the obviously tipsy onlookers. (Who else but a drunkard would applaud my voice?) (Although the results were even more dramatic with I Will Always Love You. I didn't know the tune and improvised a great deal, but I did get the high notes as I am a true first soprano (toot toot horn) and therefore apparently was impressive. Nathan wouldn't shut up about it until I started talking about football. You see how desperate I became.) Oh, those memories... I had the time of my life! The only fly in my ointment was that Sonia still loved JTJ at that point, and was sad because he was there. I asked Nathan if he could induce JTJ to hang out with us, but was met with disappointment because apparently JTJ was with "some random girl". SEXY FUCK! That ass! How dare he! You see what a kind and caring friend I am. It is not just because I wanted to hang out with him too. Not at all. I am more sympathetic to a cause of broken heartedness than that.
Nathan appeared to be moonstruck. Over me, too. How fucking weird.
We do still talk now, which is quite good, but I want someone to make a move on me. I'm flirting with a lot of guys, but no one will DO anything CONCLUSIVE which is really obnoxious because it's almost the end of first semester and I haven't had a boyfriend yet this year! I'm a loser. I know. There must be something really wrong with me.
Not enough cleavage perhaps.
I have been more modest (ish) this year, which is really surprising. I thought for sure I'd continue my reputation, but I'm apparently falling down on the job. Which is also depressing. I need to get some more low shirts.
Ugh, thanksgiving break is almost over..... How annoying. Although everything is kind of annoying at this point. At least I'll get to see everyone.... I only saw Sonia and Allie through the whole week. Fail. I have become a recluse of reclusiveness. Oh, Jade did come over a couple times, and we went shopping, but she's practically part of the family now... so I'm still a recluse of reclusiveness. How sad for me. Maybe I can write some Poe-etry. HA I am so full of amusement, punnishness and witticism.
...I think we have established this earlier in the entry.
Maybe I should go to bed... It's too late to be up like this. Actually, no it's not, but it's raining (RAINING BLOOOOD!) and I want to actually snuggle up in a warm bed with rain for more than three hours. (Not to say the rain is in my bed, but merely... eh, forget it. Ignorance is bliss.) Oh.... that previous Slayer reference made me look kind of psychotic didn't it.... My apologies.
But now... I'm scared to go to bed! The Ring, man! The fucking Ring! Or else Saw, because that isn't exactly lovely for sweet dreams either. DAMMIT! This happens to me all the time! Once I decided to browse for some new music on Youtube (as you do). I found this song called She's Dead by some screwy band or other. Oh, ok, I thought. This looks interesting! So I clicked on it, and immediately was inundated with beautiful imagery of the lyrical masterpiece. "She's deeeeeeaaaadddd..." wailed the lead singer, obviously in some kind of physical torment or other. "I crushed her head," added one of the backup singers cheerfully. Then they started chanting in German. I mean, please! If you're going to be inconsiderate enough to start singing about ritual sacrifice, at LEAST have the common courtesy to do it in a language that we can all understand! Although probably that was a blessing in disguise because the lyrics appeared to translate to an orgy of blood and sodomization. (sodomize? Yeah?) Not that this would bother me, but when they started getting hot and heavy with the corpse I decided to close the window and listen to some nice, inoffensive Anthrax. However, that night I couldn't sleep for fear of one of these noble men coming into the window and getting themselves some new subject matter at my expense. Eventually I just crept downstairs and finished my homework. But anyway! This whole thing about going to bed early is nice and all but it just doesn't work when you are convinced that there is a rabid pack of flesh eating ax murderers lodged in your closet and Justin Beiber is under your bed! It is an "armchair theory". I am sure that I will never be a respectable hermit.
Not when there are German slaughtering tribes in the music industry anyway.
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