January 31, 2011

To feel something.

So I'm doing better.
Way better.
And by way better, I mean just a little bit better.
I don't know what to make of life right now.
But I know that I don't want to stay here anymore.
When the weather gets warmer, I want to leave.
Just take off and go somewhere.
I'll make friends, I'll meet people.
I won't be me anymore.
I'll be changed.

I'll abandon everything, you know.
Just to travel about and learn more about myself.
Learn more about my fears.
About my past.
About what I want in my future.
I'll find new paths, and I will tread them all.

This isn't really a fail blog, ladies and gentlemen.
I have no humorous words to share.
I've been hurt.
I've been beaten.
And I want to see that there is something more out there.
I won't grow if I stay here.
I know that.
But I don't want to go alone.
At least, not at first.

I want someone to come with me.
Someone to abandon everything and just leave with me.
Until we're ready to go off on our own.
Tread our own paths.
If they cross again, then good.
But one does not go out into the world to see people they already know.

January 29, 2011


This blog today is being brought to you by a pissed off blogger.
I'm not a bad person.
I'm actually kind and sweet in person.
You know, sometimes.
But would you honestly like to know why I'm so bitter?
I am constantly let down by men.
AKA: Children.
AKA: The reason I'm sure many girls off themselves.

So let me tell you a story.
We go back a ways, back to the dawn of this blog.
Back to when I was in love with someone we'll call Jack.

Well, I was living with Jack in another state, far from home.
And I was in love.
However, for reasons I don't care to list, I had to move back home to Virginia.
And then he dumped the shit out of me.
So, just three weeks after this relationship of almost 3 years ended, I started dating someone else.
We'll call him Douchefag.

Well, Douchefag and I hit it off wonderfully.
But I'm crazy.
I dump the shit out of him.
Why? Well, several reasons.
I was still in love with Jack, I wasn't ready for a commitment, and Douchefag was moving too fast for me.
6 months of tedious back-and-forth bullshit later, I realize I've fallen for Douchefag.
But he told me he was moving.
So I didn't say anything.
Couple weeks later, I find out he's staying.
I'm excited. I'm fucking ecstatic.
But, as it turns out, he's got feelings for one of my friends.
  • Heartbreak #1.
We'll call that friend Ron.
Well, Ron didn't know I was in love with this guy.
Upon finding out, he backed off completely.
Or so I thought.
Douchefag told me he wanted to be with me, not Ron.
His exact words, "I can't imagine waking up without you next to me."

Two days later, he says he feels nothing for me.
  • Heartbreak #2.
I'm shattered.
Hell, I'm two feet away from a bottle of pills and the angel on my shoulder dipped out days ago.
So I'm in a bad place.
But these two tell me they won't get together because of me.
They both care about me too much to hurt me like that.
So what do I tell them?

Me:: Fuck how I feel. If you two are happy together, then do it up. Honestly. Don't let my petty feelings stop you from being together.
Them:: Ohmygawsh, thank you kind woman!
Me:: Eh, it's what I do.

Only problem is, Ron has a psycho ex-boyfriend. We'll call him Tom.
They're still living together, sleeping with each other.
And Douchefag and I are receiving numerous reports of this ex beating Ron up.
Ron comes over bruised and scratched and crying.
We console him.
We get drunk.
We go to Tom and Ron's house with every intention of kicking Tom's ass.
With a broken fret board.
We don't even see the guy, we're just drunk and fighting and I'm a crying drunk mess.
And Douchefag is being a douche, but hey, it was an emotional time.

So, for the next few weeks I am nothing but the greatest fucking friend to Douchefag.
I am doing everything I can for him.
I am still in love with him, so of course I'm doing all I can to help him out in any way.
And then he tells me he doesn't want to be with Ron.
Turns out Ron isn't who Douchefag thought he was.

Douche:: I'm disgusted by him. I hate being near him. I still love you. I'm so happy when I'm around you.
Me:: You mean that?
Douche:: Yes.
Me:: You promise?
Douche:: Yes.
Me:: Alright, then let's do it up.

And then Douchefag moves in with Ron and starts fucking him.
  • Heartbreak #3.
So I start dating someone else, but that's irrelevant to this plot-line.
Douchefag never officially hooks it up with Ron.
I'm still in love with him, but working to get over him.
And then I find out that Douchefag has a new boyfriend.
Wait, what?
Yes, well I guess the gay population isn't the greatest in this area.
Can't be too picky.
Thing is, Douchefag has NO idea that this Tom is Ron's ex.
I give Douchefag fair warning.
But meh.
Nobody listens to me.

So shit happens, I'm single, and Douchefag breaks up with Tom.
Gets ahold of me.
And Tom, I hope you're reading this.
Douchefag tells me, once again, he wants me.

Remember, these are all quotes written as verbatim as possible.

Me:: You just broke up with him today, why are you telling me you love me and you want me?
Douchefag:: Because there were so many times when I was with him and I thought, "Why can't you be more like Charlotte?"
Me:: I'm head over heels in love with you, Douchefag. I've tried getting over you, but I just can't. Do you actually mean it this time? You actually want to get back together?
Douchefag: Yes.
Me:: Alright. Well, why don't you come over to my house tomorrow? We'll hang out.

There were also plans made for the first and second time we would be having sex again.
Second time, we'd wear silly hats.
And his exact words:
Me:: If/when we do it again....
Douchefag:: Don't worry, it's definitely going to happen.

No if's about it.
Just a matter of when.

So he comes over the next day.
I'm so happy to see him.
I'm ecstatic.
Seriously, people, I would follow this man to the ends of the earth.
Through hell, hurt, and hunger, I would follow him.
And he tells me he didn't mean what he said.
  • Heartbreak #4.
He just says the timing is off.
It wouldn't be fair to anyone if he got together with me.
I wasn't expecting us to be together anytime soon, but I was expectant.
But no.
I fell for it again.
Couple days later, it's facebook official that they're back together.
This morning, I see that they're engaged.
Well, now I'm three feet away from a bottle of pills and the angel on my shoulder hasn't shown up yet.
But instead of racing to swallow them all down, I'm bitching online.
And Douchefag, if you're reading this, I wish you all the happiness in the world.
I truly do.
But I will not be your friend.
I will not be your acquaintance.
And when shit goes down, I won't be there for you.
Not for a long time.
Not until you can honestly apologize.
Because I'm still crying over you.
And I shouldn't have to do that.
Peace out.

June 24, 2010

Holy shit.

I fucking graduated high school, readers.

Excuse me while I celebrate this bitch.

Me:: /drinks massive amount of alcohol.
Reader:: You're only 18. That's illegal.
Me:: Fuck off, man, I can... I canoo what I want. You're not the bosh of menymore.
Reader:: I can call the authorities on you.
Me:: Oh, shhhiit man why you... Why you gotta bring down the fun?

Yeah, it was great.
I got a fucking tattoo.
Hurt like hell, but I didn't cry.
Just complained.
A lot.
Begged him to stop.
Started actually praying.
Yeah, that bad.

But what fails?
Well, fucking girly emotions.
Those fucking suck.

Reader:: Aren't you a girl?
Me:: What? No.
Reader:: But... Your name is Charlotte.
Me:: Yes.
Reader:: And you have a vagina.
Me:: Your point?
Reader:: You're a fucking girl, man.
Me:: .... /permaban.

Little hint;
Don't call the Tiny One [me] a girl.
Makes me fill with generic rage.

I may have boobs, vag, and the ability to cook, but I ain't no fucking girl.
I got a 4 foot long cock [and that's when it's soft.]
I ain't afraid to violate you with it.

But the thing I hate about these icky girly emotions is that they make me, oh what's the word....
Reader:: Feel?
Me:: That's the one.

See, I enjoy being a heartless, sarcastic, annoying little pixie.
Makes me happy as shit.
What I don't enjoy is, ugh... Feeling.
At least, I dislike feeling things over shit that don't matter.
Like what people think of me.
Yeah, that's right.
I've actually been caring about what people think of me.
I've fallen so far...

But enough of that!
I want to talk to you about prostitution.
.... Kinda.

Me:: Hey, Reader? I got a question.
Reader:: Go for it.
Me:: Well, can you be trashy, but not slutty?
Reader:: If it's you, then I don't think so.
Me:: .... What's that mean?
Reader:: You're tiny, angry, and full of sarcasm. If you're also trashy, I can only conclude that you're slutty as well.
Me:: Thank you for being honest, at least.
Reader:: You're.... Thanking me? No permaban? So insults?
Me:: Nah. I ran out of insults last night when I was fucking your mom in her loose ass.
Reader:: .... Ouch.

I'll have more interesting shit in my next blog.
No promises.


April 22, 2010

All the single ladies...

So it's been like, forever since we've done one of these things~
So let's jump into this shit.

I moved back to Virginia.
My boyfriend broke up with me.
I don't understand why.
I'm such a loving and nice person.

Reader:: -raises eyebrow-
Me:: Fuck off. I can delude myself.

So what to talk about today?
What fails lately?

Fuck high school.
Fuck drama.
Fuck people.
Fuck supposed "best friends."

I would elaborate on all of that, but my goal is to rid my life of drama.
And elaborating might cause a little bit.
So I gotta stay hush hush on that.

But people at my school fail pretty fucking hard.

Adam West:: Would you like an example, I think you would.
Reader:: Adam... West? What are you doing here?
Adam West:: I was looking for my dog when I realized I don't have one, so I came here.
Reader:: .... Charlotte, you've fallen pretty far on the funny scale. Which is saying something.
Me:: Well, you're still reading this so obviously I'm doing something right.

So let me tell you this story.
All characters depicted in this story are entirely fictional, so don't think I'm talking about you.
Even though I am.

I was chilling, just minding my own business.
And then I realize I have to do my fucking homework.
Fail out the ass.
So I start doing it, you know.
Like the responsible teenager I am.
And this chick walks up.
I'mma call her Tasha.

Tasha:: What are you doing?
Me:: Homework.
Tasha:: Oh. Look, we're short a player. Wanna play Skip-Bo with us?
Me:: I'm doing homework.
Tasha:: When's it due?
Me:: Next class.
Tasha:: Oh, okay. Please play Skip-Bo?
Me:: .... I'd rather choke on glitter than try to explain that I have to do my homework to you.
Tasha:: You can do it next class.
Me:: No, I can't, now gtfo.
Tasha:: Whatever.

So she walks off to go play her stupid little card game while I work.
Then I hear her from across the room.
Talking about me.

Tasha:: She makes no sense and she's so stupid, blah blah blah shitty gossip talk.
Pink Ranger:: I know, why doesn't she just do her homework next class?
Tasha:: Maybe she thinks she's too good to play with us.
Red Ranger:: That's a laugh. Her being too good for anything is just hilarious.
Me [Loudly]:: Sorry I want to graduate the year I'm supposed to, Red Ranger. I know you failed in that task, but don't look down your nose at others trying.

For those of you unaware, the Red Ranger failed English. Twice. So she's supposed to be a senior but is, instead, only a sophomore.

Red Ranger:: If you have something to say, say it to my face.
Me [After looking up from my homework]:: Sorry I want to graduate the year I'm supposed to, Red Ranger. I know you failed in that task, but don't look down your nose at others trying. Is that better? Is that cool with you?
Red Ranger:: Whatever.
Me:: The perfect argument. "Whatever." Sorry, that statement is too logical for me to debate with any further.
Red Ranger:: Yeah.
Me:: /commences work.

So as if that wasn't bad enough, about fifteen minutes later I see the Power Pack fast at work writing something down.
I wasn't curious.
Not at all.
But I did kinda wonder what they were writing and laughing about while looking up at me every few seconds.

So the bell rings. We get ready to go.
Someone "accidentally" bumps into me.
I knew better.
Years of being bullied and teased has taught me better.
So I reach up and pull off a sign that says,
"I think I'm better than everyone else.
Please kick me to teach me a thing or two."

Huh. And it even had little doodles and meanie faces drawn on it.
Except they misspelled everyone. And two.
It really said, "i think im better then every1 else
please kick me 2 teach me a thing or too"

I shit you not.
Listen up, people.
If you're going to insult me via text,
Insult me with proper spelling and grammar.

February 13, 2010

Ugh.... Valentine's Day

So I haven't posted in a while.
I got shit to do, mother fucker.

In 30 minutes from now, it will be Valentine's day.
Now, I'm not a mushy kind of girl when it comes to shit like this.
In fact, I got my boyfriend a card that plays "Pretty Woman" when he opens it.
For the lulz.
See? I got a sense of humor.

But this is my first valentine's day in which I have a boyfriend.
So I was kind of thinking it would be, I don't know, different?
I still think it's a shit holiday.

BUT! I can take advantage of it.
In like, 2 days all of the V-day candy will be on sale.
And I will be buying all of it.
Because that's how I roll.
Most romantic thing to me is a good deal.

-sighs- I don't have much to rant about today, reader.
OH! I do.
I just remembered that I forgot to tell you that I had a visit from the slag-whore.
I wasn't happy about this.
Wasn't happy at all.
But she was willing to drive 7 hours to see me for an hour and then drive back.
14 hours of driving just to see me for an hour.
There had to be a catch.
There had to be a fucking catch somewhere.
But no.
She was genuine.
I was in shock, people.
AND she gave me money.
A lot of it.
150 bucks, man.
[To me, who is without a job, that's a lot.]

Reader, I have renewed hope for people.
Even for the slag-whore.

Well, that's all I have to say this time.
Fuck valentine's day.
Fuck the slag-whore.
I miss Virginia.


January 11, 2010

Dear goodness, it's been a while.

And guess who fails today?
That's right!
The Christians!
More specifically, the Westboro Baptist Church.

If you've never heard of them, then you fail.
These guys are fucking bananas.
You should check out their homepage.
Oh yeah.
That's their homepage alright.

Reader:: But why do they fail, Charlotte?
Me:: I'm glad you asked, Reader. You see, they hate Lady Gaga.
Reader:: -le gasp!-
Me:: Indeed, Reader. In fact, they hate her so much, the re-wrote and recorded a parody of her song Poker Face.
Reader:: You're shitting me.
Me:: That I am not, Reader.

So yeah.
God hates the world, apparently.
I mean he hates me.
Your child.
Your fetus if you're pregnant.
And you're going to hell.

No love from this god.
Just hate.

Well, MY god is [GM]Dave.
Seems like a just god to me.
He don't like you, he feeds you to Jormy.
And since I'm still around, I must not have pissed him off.

At least I hope not.

But anyways.

Other news.
Since it has been a while...

Well, I joined an IRC channel group thingy.
Fun times, let me tell you.

And my boyfriend has been withholding sex from me.
Oh, yeah.
None for the Charlotte, mm-mmm.
She has to wait.
Wait for what?
I don't know.

I'm going out of my mind.

In case you didn't know, where most humans are fueled by trivial things like food and water,
I am fueled by sex.
You give it to me and, damnit, you be glad I'm asking.
You don't get to take it from me.
That's a woman's job.

Reader:: Aren't you a woman?
Me:: Thank you, Sir Obvious. But I'm not the one taking it away and using it to get what I want, am I?

I think I'm dying...
Oh well.

People Eating All the Crazy Elves.
[I just made that up.]


December 27, 2009

Worst. Xmas. Ever.

Okay, so you guys wanna know how I spent my Christmas evening?
Writhing in pain in the bathroom.
Thanks for the food poisoning, Santa!
I really fucking appreciate it.

My body was so fucked up, man.
I lost 6 pounds in one night.
Now I know why chicks go bulimic.
Results, man.
Fucking results.

But, I am all better now.

And what have I got in store for you today?
Why, another fail story!

Reader:: HOSHIT, FAIL!!! YAY!!!!
Me:: Calm the fuck down.

So what's the fail story for today, you ask?

I went there last night to get my ass some medicine.
I get in line to check out, and we all know how the day after christmas lines are at Wal-Mart.
So after waiting 20 goddamn minutes, the chick starts ringing up my items.
Chicken Noodle Soup.
Cold Medicine.
Ramen Noodles.
Ice Cream.

Girl:: Do you need this medicine?
Me:: Uhh... Yeah.
Girl:: Do you have a fever?
Me:: Yes, I do.
Girl:: Did you like, drive here?
Me:: My boyfriend drove me.
Girl:: You need to be 18 to buy this medicine.
Me:: I am 18. -goes to get ID-
Girl:: I don't need to see your ID. -puts medicine away-
Me:: Look, are you my fucking doctor? No? Then give me the damn medicine.
Girl:: You must be 18 to buy this medicine, miss.
Me:: I am 18. Here's my ID.
Girl:: I don't need to see your ID. -rings up medicine and puts it in bag-
Me:: Thank you very fucking much. -pays and leaves-

Now this might not seem very fail to you.
But I mean what the HELL was wrong with this chick?
Firstly, she looked stoned to ba-jesus.
Secondly, she was fucking stupid.

This is why I hate Wal-Mart.
God damn.

Reader:: That's all? That's all you have to rant about today?
Me:: Yup.

December 25, 2009

Merry Mother Fucking Xmas

Christfag:: You should say Christmas. Saying Xmas takes the Christ out of Christmas!
Me:: Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that you people have no clue what you're talking about.
Christfag:: ... Huh?
Me:: It was originally a Pagan winter solstice holiday that you fucktards decided to play "Pin The birthdate of the Jesus" on.
Christfag:: That's just internet nonsense.
Me:: Right. And I net the German tradition of the decorated tree is, too. Oh, and Santa is the devil.
Christfag:: -More religious nonsense-
Me:: -Lack of creativity. Bored with this conversation. Goes to make a sammich-

Oh, hey bloggers.
Happy Christmas to all.

Also, not trying to hate on the Christians.
Just gtfo my pagan holiday.
For real.
Mine was there first.

Onto some other stuff...
I got some presents and I feel like bragging.

-Nice earrings
-Nail polish [Because all I have is black and my sister-in-law wants to see a change]
-100 bucks
-Iron Tea Pot [WIN]
-Two awesome shirts
-And, last but not least at all; A SUPER FUCKING AWESOME HARRY POTTER MUG. It's black and it says "I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good" and you put hot cocoa/coffee in it and it turns white and says "Mischief Managed."
[You can guess which present was my favorite.]
[[Don't be jealous, Riah.]]

Oh, and by the way, I'm starting a Youtube channel soon.
Lame fucking name?
You betcha.

I have another one called FlaggedF0rPvp, but my boyfriend says that one is lame.
Also remembered that I have another called EpicFaceDesk

Which one do you, the reader, think I should use for my channel?
Leave your decision in the comment section below.

Also, how the fuck to I get my camera to record video in non-.MOV format?
For serious.
Pisses me off cuz I can't edit them or upload them.

Also also, why the fuck do I have three youtube accounts?
Shit's gay.

-sighs- My head hurts.
I threw up a little bit ago.
Not feeling too hot.
And boyfriend is off playing Combat Arms.

Yay, my life is awesome.

This is a short blog, I know.

Not a lot to rant about today.

Oh, I'm going to hopefully be purchasing a violin tomorrow with my Xmas munnies.
That's about it.

Now, tell me which user account to use for my new VLOGs.

Also, tell me why.
Kinda like EpicFaceDesk so I can just call my VLOG the EFD show.
Like omgitsatree because it rhymes and isn't trying to be cool like you posers.

Anyways, let me know what you think.

December 20, 2009

Where the hell have I been?

You find yourself not asking me?
Awww, you're sweet to have noticed my absence.

Well, let me tell you a tale.
'Tis a riveting ballad of how I FUCKING HATE TECHNOLOGY.


Anywho, I recently re-formatted my laptop.
Fun times!

Then I went on an adventure of figuring out which fucking drivers I needed to get the internet to work.

Then I decided that the internet should eat me.

I get the right driver. Alright. Making progress.
Only took a mother fucking week.

Then I connect to my boyfriends router.
What's mine is yours kinda deal.

Then I go to download Mozilla Firefox [Because IE can get raped by lions.]
So I google it.
Dear spirits, I love Google.

Anyways, I'm waiting for the search engine to do my bidding when BAM
Internet go bye-bye.
Internet comes back!

Me:: That was weird. Oh well, I'm sure it won't happen again. *F5*

Of course, we all know my life is full of fail, soo....

BAM. Internet go bye-bye again.
Then it comes back.

Me:: Look here, you piece of shit...
Internet:: *Disconnects*
Me:: ...... Cocksucker.
Internet:: Oh, hello! How are you?
Me:: Why do you keep doing that?
Internet:: Doing what?
Internet:: *Disconnects*
Me:: What the-
Internet:: Oh, hello! How are you?
Me:: I'm going to rape you in the-
Internet:: *Disconnects*

Yeah. I'm sure the docs gonna LOVE my blood pressure this month.

So I hate technology.
Gonna have to buy a new Wireless Network card.
Because this one is smiling at my anguish.
All smug and shit.
I just know it.


So I stole my boyfriends laptop.
Read me some [GM]Dave.
A lot.

His blood pressure has to beat mine by a long shot.
Oh well.

SO. I wont be posting for a while.

Gotta get this pice of shit up and running again.

Maybe I'll just buy a new fucking laptop.

That's it.

Fuck this mess.

I refuse to go bald over a fucking Dell laptop.

December 3, 2009

A big ol' can of crazy.

Hey everyone.
And by everyone, I mean my two viewers.

Haven't had anything to write about in a few days.
And just today I thought to myself;

Me:: Fuck. I haven't nothing to blog about. No fail stories. Nothing. This sucks.

And then, something happened.

You remember the slagwhore, right?

Viewer:: You mean your mother?
Me:: That's what I said. Slagwhore.

Here's how the last conversation I HAD with her went.

Slagwhore:: Hey! I got a new cell phone and number!
Me:: ... Okay? Why are you telling me?
Slagwhore:: So you could save this number in your phone.
Me:: I didn't have your last number saved in my phone.
Me:: What makes you think I would save this one, too?
Slagwhore:: You're silly. I'll talk to you later, okay?
Me:: Furthermore, how the hell did you get this number?
Slagwhore:: Bye!

Yeah. Not shitting you.

So I get a text today from my sister.

Sister:: Mom found your new school.
Me:: Dear what's his face in heaven. How?
Sister:: Called your last school and requested your transfer information.
Me:: I thought dad put her on the "THIS WOMAN IS BATSHIT CRAZY, DON'T TELL HER ANYTHING" list?
Sister:: He did. They're stupid. You know that.
Me:: Right. Go on.
Sister:: So she called the school they said they think you're transferring to.
Me:: God help them.
Sister:: And she said they told her you were a student there.
Me:: But... I'm not enrolled there yet. I haven't turned in the forms!
Sister:: Maybe she was bullshitting me. I don't know. Just be careful.
Me:: Gods help me.

So yeah.
My mother isn't allowed that information from my school.
The divorce that occurred when I was 5 saw to that.

So my dad hears this and is livid.
Granted he's the main reason why I moved out...
I can still sympathize with the man.

Now, what do you think your adorable, sweet, loving blogger would do at this point?

That's right.

I IMed the bitch.

She was offline though, to the satisfaction of insulting her and then promptly logging off would not be given to me.
Still, I was nice and polite in the message.

Me:: So I heard you're trying to find me.
::The Slagwhore is offline. It will receive your messages when it logs back in.::
Me:: A likely story.
Me:: Piece of advice? Don't.
Me:: I can understand you wanting to keep tabs on me, but this is borderline stalker-ish.
Me:: I know, I know. "I'm your mother, I should know these things, I haven't spoken to you in a year" blah blah blah.
Me:: But you contacted my school and requested information you have no right to have.
Me:: Or do you not remember the court system raping your ass in that custody battle?
Me:: If I were you, I wouldn't be able to forget the humiliation and pain and torment.
Me:: Oh wait, I was there. And even though I was 5 and had no idea what they were talking about, I still found it funny.
Me:: Like the time you were attacked by that dog.
Me:: Didn't know why it was attacking you, but I laughed my ass off all the same.
Me:: Anyways, back to my original point. What was it again? Oh yeah...
Me:: kthnxbai

So my boyfriend is a giggling mess while I'm leaving her this message.

He says it was because the look in my eyes was hilarious.

I think it was because I was screaming, "Take this, and that, and some of this!" at my computer screen while I typed.

Who knows.

But yeah.

I'd rather go up against the fucking Rancor than have to deal with this shit.

don't know what a rancor is?

... anybody?


You fail.