See, now you can read what I'm saying.
'Course, I had to be able to communicate like this - how could I not be one of the cool boys? (Please tell me I get to be one of the cool boys now. Not that there was any doubt, but I like to hear that from as many people as possible.)
Everyone seems to be in a flutter about the Ball - who to ask and what to wear. I'm tempted to go on strike and just turn up by myself, but people would rather call me a sad and pathetic loner than understand the keen political point I'm making. And I wouldn't get a chance to show off my date, who is yet unknown.
Still, it's a good chance to scope out all the boys in hopefully flattering costumes (Quidditch players or superheros please apply) - and yes, in case you haven't read the signs, I'd like to ask out a boy. Or a platonic girl who doesn't mind me making catty comments about all the other girl's dresses.
Boys who would like to apply to be my date and enjoy the honour of making out with yours truly can line up on the left; boys who wish to pummel me in a bigoted rage can line up on the right. Boys who are so conflicted in their closeted denial that they want to do both can have a nice sit-down: you're beyond my help.
...Aren't you all glad you can now hear me ranting at any God-awful hour of the day and night?
Everyone seems to be in a flutter about the Ball - who to ask and what to wear. I'm tempted to go on strike and just turn up by myself, but people would rather call me a sad and pathetic loner than understand the keen political point I'm making. And I wouldn't get a chance to show off my date, who is yet unknown.
Still, it's a good chance to scope out all the boys in hopefully flattering costumes (Quidditch players or superheros please apply) - and yes, in case you haven't read the signs, I'd like to ask out a boy. Or a platonic girl who doesn't mind me making catty comments about all the other girl's dresses.
Boys who would like to apply to be my date and enjoy the honour of making out with yours truly can line up on the left; boys who wish to pummel me in a bigoted rage can line up on the right. Boys who are so conflicted in their closeted denial that they want to do both can have a nice sit-down: you're beyond my help.
...Aren't you all glad you can now hear me ranting at any God-awful hour of the day and night?