That time of the month, someone called her fat, Johnny Quarterback didn’t call her back, whatever the reason is it doesn’t matter. She’s still a bitch and you are her next target. Other than the gospel of Ani DiFranco there is no real rationale that can be applied to the reason she’s adopted for hating you. Just do whatever you feel like doing, like some kind of hate sprinkler. Spreading it in all directions that have a their reproductive organs hanging on the outside.  Another good candidate for the L.T.G. (Lesbian til Graduate) program. She’ll experiment with a few mild drugs and tell you she’s hard core. The only good thing is, judging by her horrible hair style or lack there of, she is too lazy to go out protest the evil ways of the establishment.

You know it’s so hard waking up at noon everyday, using the gas card Mom and Dad got me to fill up the Jetta. Head over to the local Starbucks and read Twilight, or write tons of bad poems. Poems about how, it’s wrong to be a man.

She’s more interested in impressing the power bitches at her all girl college with her Hello Kitty underwear than talk to you. Middle finger to the face mother fucker! Deal with that and feel bad for having a penis… Time to listen to Catie Curtis and wish I lived in Seattle. Then I could wear my long sleeve shirts with thumb holes year round. People don’t won’t judge you there like they do here.