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.]