As it stands, this week has been more of a disappointment to me then Cuba Gooding Jr. is to black people.
If someone is going to hate me, I would rather they hate me for a damn good reason. A VALID reason. Not just for some misconstrude, twisted, mutilated thought in thier own head. I am not responsible for your neurosis. If you can now say you never loved me thats fine... you're probably right... just don't pretend it's fine by you that our whole relationship went to hell in a handbag and you're only now telling me that you never loved me. Does that mean that you were ever worth it? Probably not.
You're so cool. I'm done ranting.
I just wish everything was as easy as ordering fast food. I went to Popeyes last night to consume some good ole fried food.
"Can I get a breast, a leg, and a biscuit, please? Extra spicy style. Honey for the buscuit and extra butter please. Thanks."
I swear when you're polite at a drive through window, you can get whatever the hell you want. And he didn't charge me for the buscuit either.
Where is it that I can go and say, "Can I get a boyfriend that has personality, plays in a good band that doesn't tour, and shits bricks of gold? And extra penis please," and get results?
Nowhere. RAts. I'm fucked.
If someone is going to hate me, I would rather they hate me for a damn good reason. A VALID reason. Not just for some misconstrude, twisted, mutilated thought in thier own head. I am not responsible for your neurosis. If you can now say you never loved me thats fine... you're probably right... just don't pretend it's fine by you that our whole relationship went to hell in a handbag and you're only now telling me that you never loved me. Does that mean that you were ever worth it? Probably not.
You're so cool. I'm done ranting.
I just wish everything was as easy as ordering fast food. I went to Popeyes last night to consume some good ole fried food.
"Can I get a breast, a leg, and a biscuit, please? Extra spicy style. Honey for the buscuit and extra butter please. Thanks."
I swear when you're polite at a drive through window, you can get whatever the hell you want. And he didn't charge me for the buscuit either.
Where is it that I can go and say, "Can I get a boyfriend that has personality, plays in a good band that doesn't tour, and shits bricks of gold? And extra penis please," and get results?
Nowhere. RAts. I'm fucked.
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Call Tucker, he said that you neeeeed to keep in touch.
And update your damn journal....