NO, U R A BITCH!!!!
Thank you, Ryan, for fucking up some more of my plans.
You deserve a great, big round of applause for everything you've done over the past year and a half.
Thank you. Fucking thank you.
But, what I'd really like to thank you for is how Mr. Anderson sounded on the phone today.
When he thought Heather was coming (without you, which was a point he made several times) he sounded so worried and hopeful and exhausted that I just felt like dying when I heard that she wasn't going to be able to make it after all.
No, her parents wanted to see her a little too badly, didn't they? They're just trying to take her away from you, too.
Same with her little sisters, Kristi, Angie, Pip, Sam, me, and every other one of Heather's friends who love her and have not seen her in at least four months.
How dare they try to talk to her?
How dare they offer to take her out to coffee. How dare they suggest that she join them in a hot tub girls' night. How dare they invite her out shopping.
Fuck you. The only people who are more fed up with your stupid, immature, controlling bullshit than I am are Heather's family.
So, look at it this way; you aren't just hurting my bitchy, fun-hating ass, or Kristi's disgusting, homoerotic lack of moral fiber, you're hurting the people who made Heather as weird, funny, beautiful, and perceptive as she is today. You're hurting people that Heather loves, unconditionally--people who've loved Heather unconditionally from the instant that she was born.
People who have worried themselves sick over the position that you've thrown her into.
It makes me sick that you'll even speak to Heather's parents at all. In spite of the stupid bullshit you're putting their daughter through--stupid bullshit that they are completely aware of because you make no effort of hiding it--you've still got the nerve to speak to them and eat dinner at their house.
And, honestly, a man who is willing to demean, humiliate, belittle, and abuse a woman only to look her father straight in the eye later and say "I love her" is not a man at all.
Does anybody feel like killing someone kicking an ass for me?
There's sixty eight bucks, a carton of cigarettes, and my extensive zombie and Charlie Chaplin film collections in it for you.
I almost made this friends' only, but fuck it.
You deserve a great, big round of applause for everything you've done over the past year and a half.
Thank you. Fucking thank you.
But, what I'd really like to thank you for is how Mr. Anderson sounded on the phone today.
When he thought Heather was coming (without you, which was a point he made several times) he sounded so worried and hopeful and exhausted that I just felt like dying when I heard that she wasn't going to be able to make it after all.
No, her parents wanted to see her a little too badly, didn't they? They're just trying to take her away from you, too.
Same with her little sisters, Kristi, Angie, Pip, Sam, me, and every other one of Heather's friends who love her and have not seen her in at least four months.
How dare they try to talk to her?
How dare they offer to take her out to coffee. How dare they suggest that she join them in a hot tub girls' night. How dare they invite her out shopping.
Fuck you. The only people who are more fed up with your stupid, immature, controlling bullshit than I am are Heather's family.
So, look at it this way; you aren't just hurting my bitchy, fun-hating ass, or Kristi's disgusting, homoerotic lack of moral fiber, you're hurting the people who made Heather as weird, funny, beautiful, and perceptive as she is today. You're hurting people that Heather loves, unconditionally--people who've loved Heather unconditionally from the instant that she was born.
People who have worried themselves sick over the position that you've thrown her into.
It makes me sick that you'll even speak to Heather's parents at all. In spite of the stupid bullshit you're putting their daughter through--stupid bullshit that they are completely aware of because you make no effort of hiding it--you've still got the nerve to speak to them and eat dinner at their house.
And, honestly, a man who is willing to demean, humiliate, belittle, and abuse a woman only to look her father straight in the eye later and say "I love her" is not a man at all.
Does anybody feel like killing someone kicking an ass for me?
There's sixty eight bucks, a carton of cigarettes, and my extensive zombie and Charlie Chaplin film collections in it for you.
I almost made this friends' only, but fuck it.