Middle-aged women with C-section scars GIRL POWER!!!
Is anyone else excited about the Spice Girls reunion?
I know it can’t just be me.
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My adventure in the hell that is staying at my parents’ house continues.
I was sleeping the other night, and woke up to the sound of my parents having sex.
God hates me. I’ve decided this because this keeps fucking happening to me. I mean, I guess my parents assumed it’s safe to get it on at 1:13 a.m., but they probably failed to remember that I was sleeping right below their bedroom.
It was not good.
My sister is fighting with them every day, over ridiculous shit that I can’t believe they fight with her about. Mostly it’s about my dad making something for dinner, and her wanting something else. Bitchiness and silence ensues. My mom says “fuck her” and my mom says “fuck her”, which results in three or four days of my stupid dad playing middle man to these two retards.
My sister’s ex-boyfriend is now stalking her, and sending her text messages every five seconds, and calling her all the time. For example, she went with me over to Kay and DMX’s a few weeks ago for a BBQ, and in the four hours we were there, he called SEVENTY TWO TIMES. I’ve told my parents that guys like him can take a turn for the worst, and end up being very dangerous, but they dismiss me and chock it up to “young love”. Whatever. Seventy-two calls in four hours is psychotic.
He called her last night and screamed into the voicemail that he was sitting in front of our house, and wanted to know “where the fuck” she was and “who the fuck” she was with (incidentally, they are not together [this time] because she caught him with another girl). Right. “Young Love.”
I’m glad I’m 33.
I’ve declared to my mother that I will be going home tomorrow afternoon. If I had my way, I’d have been out of here days ago, but my mother begged me to stay longer.
I stopped by my house yesterday to get some mail and Ike was so happy to see me that I would have cried if I didn’t think it would hurt like hell.
I can’t wait to get back home.
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Today was a Being Bobby Brown marathon on Bravo. It was like Christmas. I was glued to the TV, enjoying the nostalgia of the greatest union of crackheads in the history of the world.
God, I hope they reconcile. And film it.
Who else is going to sing about biscuits and gravy and talk about poop all the time?
Comment by Prolifique
June 28, 2007 @
“Who else is going to sing about biscuits and gravy and talk about poop all the time?”
That’s it. I’m moving to California and we’re starting a band.