AG: I don't see how we're supposed to 8e 8ecoming friends if you recoil from my olive 8ranch like I'm twitching a mummified 8ovine phallus in your direction.
CG: BECOMING FRIENDS, WHAT THE FUCK.
CG: WE WILL NEVER BE FRIENDS, MORON.
AG: Not even h8 friends?
CG: NO. MORE LIKE TWITCHY EYED PROJECTILE VOMITING IN UTTER DISGUST FRIENDS, WHILE I PERFORATE MY BONE BULGE WITH A CULLING FORK.
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Blegh...
Posted 02-18-2009 at 06:53 PM by scrab queen
The flu. And that bitch expects me to mop the floor anyway.
Me and my parents are actually hoping that drama queen #1 comes up with some flimsy excuse to leave. Last time, she reconsidered because she had nowhere else to go. She's been getting friendly with another family lately, probably to leech off of them as soon as the money runs out over here. About #2 and the seisure: I spoke with my dad recently, and he agreed with me. He admitted to considering just leaving her there until he was sure she went into a coma, and then giving the excuse that he was in the bedroom. Grandma didn't blame me for slapping her last week. I'm not the only one. I have to get a video or a recording of her. Then you'll probably see why I murder her brutally in my head every time she opens her mouth to whine. |
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Recent Blog Entries by scrab queen
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