what is that…*gasp* ANOTHER MEME!

completely irrlevant, just tell me how much you love me

*poof* new layout! Of course, it’s a crappy free user layout, since my parents are villainous whores people who refuse to renew my paid account. Ahh yes, the joys of having manic tyrants as your biological parents. They give me something to idolize as I grow up. You wish you could idolize manic tyrants. Yes, I kmew it. You cannot hide such things from me. But anyways, yes. New layout. I see you there waiting to click with anticipation.

I refuse to wait to share this piece of information.

Want to see something interesting kiddies?

ASHANTI

You all know her I assume? Famous r&b singer and teen icon, known all over the world. Personally, I hate her, but then again I hate a lot of things. So anyways, Ashanti. People love her and listen to her music everyday. But, what happens when we rearrange the letters in her name?

*jumbles* and what do we get?

HI SATAN

Well what do you know, Ashanti is just another evil little whore. The devil incarnate himself. I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy supporting the devil’s evil schemes with my hard earned money. Die Ashanti, die.

I love VH1.

I love I love the 80s

“Excuse me lady and your children, while I mount this woman.”

I love the 80s has got to be one of the greatest shows ever made. Watching that show has never failed to make me laugh immensely. What a flipping genius show. They need to come out on DVD so that I may buy and watch them constantly. It’s strangely satisfying to sit down and waste my time watching people ridicule the 80s. Lovely, it really is.

consumed with insanity, she speaks

If I was a Satanist, or believed in ritual sacrificing, the girls in the back of the bus would be the first to go. Their insignificant and meaningless existences will hardly be missed, and I’m quite sure people will praise me for the disposing of their incompetence. Their shallowness and ignorance sickens me, and it’s disgusting to think that such beings actually do co-exist with us normal beings. I didn’t think it was possible for people to be that dense, but apparently they have proven me to be very, very wrong. Perhaps I’m just being bitter, or perhaps I’m right, and they just suck. I pity how educationally [and then some] inept my generation is. It really does spring forth tears to my eyes. I weep for the future.

*EDIT*: THE ALL-AMERICAN REJECTS ARE GOING TO BE IN HOLLYWOOD ON FRIDAY AND THE TICKETS ARE FLIPPING CHEAP!….AND I CAN’T MOTHER EFFING GO BECAUSE I HAVE HOMECOMING THE NEXT DAY. Oh the injustice of it all. Dear life, I HATE YOU AND YOUR UNFAIRNESS. STOP THE FUCKING IRONY. Love Always, A BITTER FUCKING GIRL.

PS: I am in dire need of a new layout. If I have to look at those lame pictures of me featured in my layout anymore, I might just have to shoot myself and all passing by strangers. I angst.

I FEEL SO MOTHER EFFING ACCOMPLISHED

I finally found that stupid effing song that I’ve been searching for for a while. But being the stupid whore that the song is, it mercilessly prevented me from finding it and hence, I thought I was going to die. Yet alas, I found it and now I feel cool.

Just so this post isn’t completely pointless, I am now going to share with you what is on my mind. I was supposed to be going to Disneyland tomorrow, but my evil and villainous sister is going to be gallavanting to Mesa, Arizona tomorrow with her man-slave [aka: her boyfriend] and I am now being coerced into babysitting my demon brothers. Being the pathetic little weakling that I am, I conceded to my parents’ wishes without argument.

No wait, I lied. I gave in because I am going to Homecoming next Friday and I do not feel like being flayed and eviscerated by my parents before then. It’s just such a tedious task retrieving my entrails out of the carpet. I decided that it would be wise if I just kept my mouth shut and my internal organs intact. Besides, I don’t think Greg would appreciate it very much if when he comes to pick me up on Friday, all he finds is a large pile of viscera and detached skin, topped with a poofy red homecoming dress. Could you imagine having to dance with such a thing? Well I can, and it’s not the prettiest site. Now that I put more thought into it, eating dinner across such a thing would be pretty interesting, if not funny. But anyway,

In an hour I will be on my way to school to watch a hopefully decent rendition of Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus. Damn drama class and its being mandatory to watch all school plays for class credit. It’s a malicious and heinous conspiracy against us students to contribute an already well-provided with school with more money. OH THE HORRIFICNESS OF IT ALL.

Off I go to do something more productive with my time. Cheers.

oh immaturity, how I embrace thee!

So I finally watched Down With Love today. You know, that movie with Ewan McGregor and Renee Zellweger. That movie is just one big sexual innuendo. I enjoyed it thoroughly.

With that all said, I’m going to scurry off and find something productive to do with my time. So long.

stupid head

So I just told my mom that I’m going to quit Urban Force because I’m tired of dancing and it’s not something I like to do anymore, and she went all psycho-crazy bitch on me saying that I’m quitting because I want to spend more time with my friends. I would just like to take this time to point out how much bullshit that is.

First of all, I’m quitting because I’m tired of dancing. After doing it for the past 7 years constantly, I’m sick of it. I find myself dreading going to dance class, and it’s not nearly as exciting as it used to be for me. Besides, I have absolutely no intention of pursuing a professional dancing career, so this isn’t exactly a life-altering decision. Dancing was purely recreational when I started, and it still is. And now I’m tired. Also, I see my friends as much as I want to, so accusing me of such crap is almost laughable. Almost. Bleh to weirdo parents who get obsessive over my hobbies.

blech.

Je suis très fatiguée. Je me veux coucher, mais je ne peux pas. Parce que, je dois faire du babysitting. J’ai sommeil. Je me veux coucher beaucoup. Je déteste Mrs. Robbins. Elle est une whore sale. Pourquoi, vous demandez? Parce que je dis si. Regarde.

Moi: Hi, i came to pick up my sweater.
Whore sale: You’re not picking up anything with that snooty attitude.
[View me confused, trying to decipher if she was serious or sarcastic]
Moi: I didn’t give you a snotty attitude.
Whore sale: Well, it sure sounded like you did.
[Dirty whore proceeds to write a slip stating my out-of-uniformness]
Whore sale: You should be careful giving that snotty attitude to teachers.
Moi: I DIDN’T GIVE YOU A FLIPPING SNOTTY ATTIDUDE YOU FILTHY BITCH, SO SHUT THE HELL UP.

…

Ok so those weren’t my exact words. I actually said “But I wasn’t giving you a snotty attitude”

[View me trying very hard not to shout profane and vulgar language at her. View me trying to restrict myself from throttling her FAT neck]
Whore sale: [Eyes me with a “how dare you” kind of look] Well, I was just saying that you should be careful of sounding like you have a snotty attitude to teachers.

Stupid head. So I left, and the dirty whore had the nerve to say to the girl who came in after me to pick up her confiscated sweater “thanks, for being so much nicer and appreciative than that other girl.” Pshh why should I respect someone who took my sweater for no apparent reason and isn’t even my teacher. Blech, I hate people.

Eh bien, je me vais coucher maintenant. Bonne nuit!