I have come to understand something...
Chicks are stupid. Hmm, I didn't forget about you, journal. Okay, that's sort've a lie. I did forget about you, journal.. but you're an inanimate object, so you can't be pissed at me. Neener neener neeeeener.
So apparently Anna Nicole Smith died today. Most compassionate people would probably say "Aw, how awful." I say good riddance, bitch. Call me heartless, but a woman that sells photographs of her dead son, especially when it's not like she was hurting for money, doesn't deserve to breathe. I sincerely hope she enjoyed the boob job those pictures paid for.
An acquaintance was asking where she could find a good, decent guy these days. Let's push aside the fact that the girl has HAD good boyfriends in the past, but decided to cheat on them, lie to them, or treat them like shit. Yeah, chicks are stupid. Anyway, for all you women out there wondering the same thing, the internet is probably your best bet to find the right guy. Also, maybe you've set your standards too high. It might be your fault. In my experience, it's always the chick's fault. See my first sentence for my policy on chicks.
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And I mourn you, for the detail that is left unsaid is a reminder of the time you bled...
So apparently Anna Nicole Smith died today. Most compassionate people would probably say "Aw, how awful." I say good riddance, bitch. Call me heartless, but a woman that sells photographs of her dead son, especially when it's not like she was hurting for money, doesn't deserve to breathe. I sincerely hope she enjoyed the boob job those pictures paid for.
An acquaintance was asking where she could find a good, decent guy these days. Let's push aside the fact that the girl has HAD good boyfriends in the past, but decided to cheat on them, lie to them, or treat them like shit. Yeah, chicks are stupid. Anyway, for all you women out there wondering the same thing, the internet is probably your best bet to find the right guy. Also, maybe you've set your standards too high. It might be your fault. In my experience, it's always the chick's fault. See my first sentence for my policy on chicks.
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And I mourn you, for the detail that is left unsaid is a reminder of the time you bled...