riytwreoiuyewortywoerit...
I re-did the background. Whaddaya thiiink? I love it <3 Mm, The Used + From First to Last = LJ Sex.
I love Adobe Photoshop CS.
I'm so...talented?
Dear mother,
Just because you're a miserable and bitchy idiot, it doesn't mean you have the right to bring your daughter down. Just because you don't get off your lazy ass and socialise, it doesn't mean that you have the right to ruin everything after your daughter has had a good day.
If you're honestly THAT angry, get some help. If you honestly dis-like your daughter THAT MUCH, do her a favor and ignore her completely. If you honestly HATE your current living situation AND your "family", do us all a favor and GET THE FUCK OUT LIKE YOU KEEP SAYING YOU WILL.
With all deserved loathing,
Your daughter.
You know; the one who never does anything "wrong" on PURPOSE.
I need school. That's what I need. I need to wake up in the morning feeling shitty about some assignment I didn't do, not worrying about which parent will throw something at me. I need to go to school and focus on something else, aside from family. I need the stress of earning something, not the stress of having stuff taken away. I would rather be yelled at by a teacher than a parent. I would rather have some girls talk shit about me while I'm standing right there, instead of overhearing my parents do that in the kitchen. I would rather witness petty highschool drama amongst those catty girls than between my brothers and father. I would rather bitch and moan about how a boy doesn't love me, instead of me brooding in my head about how stupid my parents are. I'd rather write about how boring drama class is with the grade nines instead of how pissed off I am to be inside with five idiots as opposed to eight hundred every day. I would fucking PAY to sit in that stupid boring grade ten academic math class with Mrs Bennett as a teacher for three hours straight, if it took me out of this deskchair. I'm just THAT desperate. Lia's party looks better now, despite the weather and how...livid I am.
And so, we all realise that I am the "disappointment" of the family, in father's dearly hazel eyes (and UGLY hazel eyes they are, might I add). It's all because...I'm not good at math. I hate sports. I don't have or want a religion. I listen to music hideously loud. I curse. I talk back. I throw things. I slam doors. I hit my brothers when they annoy me. I scream really loud in an annoying Newfoundlander accent when I'm really pissed. I was the one that ruined their lives. I was the ACCIDENT baby. I was not planned. I was not wanted. Disregarding each of these facts, I must say that I am the miracle baby. I'm the best looking, most intelligent, most talented, and by far the only one with a decent amount of common sense within these walls. My parents are actually...ugly. Mother's flatter than an ironing board both ways and my father...let's just say vanity will never get the best of him. Mother is tall with gross brown hair and dark brown eyes. Father is shorter and rounder with thin blonde hair and gross-looking hazel (aka shit green-brown) eyes. My brothers are awkward boys. One is blonde with brown eyes, quite the asshole. The other is brunette with brown eyes, quite the fucktard. I was blessed *conceit* I was born average-height and blonde, with one green and one blue eye. I'm not a slab of drywall like my mother, nor do I look like...my father. I have nice legs and my complexion's pretty good too. Idiots. I look good in ANYTHING I wear. I make ugly clothes look good. How can I be related to these people? My IQ is well above thirty and I can hold a decent conversation with another human being.
TAKE THAT.
I'm feeling better, after that little bit of narcissism.
More like the TRUTH, actually.
I still don't understand why boys don't like me, though.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
I love Adobe Photoshop CS.
I'm so...talented?
Dear mother,
Just because you're a miserable and bitchy idiot, it doesn't mean you have the right to bring your daughter down. Just because you don't get off your lazy ass and socialise, it doesn't mean that you have the right to ruin everything after your daughter has had a good day.
If you're honestly THAT angry, get some help. If you honestly dis-like your daughter THAT MUCH, do her a favor and ignore her completely. If you honestly HATE your current living situation AND your "family", do us all a favor and GET THE FUCK OUT LIKE YOU KEEP SAYING YOU WILL.
With all deserved loathing,
Your daughter.
You know; the one who never does anything "wrong" on PURPOSE.
I need school. That's what I need. I need to wake up in the morning feeling shitty about some assignment I didn't do, not worrying about which parent will throw something at me. I need to go to school and focus on something else, aside from family. I need the stress of earning something, not the stress of having stuff taken away. I would rather be yelled at by a teacher than a parent. I would rather have some girls talk shit about me while I'm standing right there, instead of overhearing my parents do that in the kitchen. I would rather witness petty highschool drama amongst those catty girls than between my brothers and father. I would rather bitch and moan about how a boy doesn't love me, instead of me brooding in my head about how stupid my parents are. I'd rather write about how boring drama class is with the grade nines instead of how pissed off I am to be inside with five idiots as opposed to eight hundred every day. I would fucking PAY to sit in that stupid boring grade ten academic math class with Mrs Bennett as a teacher for three hours straight, if it took me out of this deskchair. I'm just THAT desperate. Lia's party looks better now, despite the weather and how...livid I am.
And so, we all realise that I am the "disappointment" of the family, in father's dearly hazel eyes (and UGLY hazel eyes they are, might I add). It's all because...I'm not good at math. I hate sports. I don't have or want a religion. I listen to music hideously loud. I curse. I talk back. I throw things. I slam doors. I hit my brothers when they annoy me. I scream really loud in an annoying Newfoundlander accent when I'm really pissed. I was the one that ruined their lives. I was the ACCIDENT baby. I was not planned. I was not wanted. Disregarding each of these facts, I must say that I am the miracle baby. I'm the best looking, most intelligent, most talented, and by far the only one with a decent amount of common sense within these walls. My parents are actually...ugly. Mother's flatter than an ironing board both ways and my father...let's just say vanity will never get the best of him. Mother is tall with gross brown hair and dark brown eyes. Father is shorter and rounder with thin blonde hair and gross-looking hazel (aka shit green-brown) eyes. My brothers are awkward boys. One is blonde with brown eyes, quite the asshole. The other is brunette with brown eyes, quite the fucktard. I was blessed *conceit* I was born average-height and blonde, with one green and one blue eye. I'm not a slab of drywall like my mother, nor do I look like...my father. I have nice legs and my complexion's pretty good too. Idiots. I look good in ANYTHING I wear. I make ugly clothes look good. How can I be related to these people? My IQ is well above thirty and I can hold a decent conversation with another human being.
TAKE THAT.
I'm feeling better, after that little bit of narcissism.
More like the TRUTH, actually.
I still don't understand why boys don't like me, though.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.