You know what?
******** you, Lee.
********.
You.
I highly doubt I will actually be joining your game, and do'ya know why?
Regardless of awesome story, I have a few problems.
Your friends. They drive me insane. Nothing in your story could ever possibly make up for the fact that I would very much like to punch out several of your friends.
You. I'm really begining to wonder why I liked you at all in the first place. And I'm starting to sympathize with Ezie when she used to ask me to drag her away from you during dances.
If I could completely hate you, I wouldn't be having this problem. But I can't, and I am, and here i am bitching about it on my ******** blog.
Lee, if you know what's good for you, you'll never speak to me again. Hearing your voice tears me between breaking down and crying, and ripping your lungs out through your a**.
I'm really leaning towards the latter, though.
Seriously, don't think I don't know what ilykourtny means. Dig your own grave and bury yourself in it. Just don't ask me to rescue you when it all blows to hell.
I can't believe I even care.
I really can't believe I ditched my best friend on her birthday so I could take you to prom. What a waste of time.
Dating is such a watse of time, money and emotions. Here's to thinking it lasts, and to crying when it doesn't.
I -might- be worried about you being upset, but then I remembered that you don't read.
Bye.
Dreamy Haze · Tue Jul 24, 2007 @ 10:18pm · 0 Comments |