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.
To GOD.
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.

I GRADUATED.
THAT MEANS I'M A FUCKING PERSON NOW.
SUCK IT. I'M INTEGRATING INTO SOCIETY AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME.
/blog

All the single ladies...

Righto.
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.
Hurray!
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?

EVERYTHING.
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.
Fun.

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.
Christ.

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?
Nope.
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.

Peace.

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.
www.godhatesfags.com
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.
You.
Your child.
Your fetus if you're pregnant.
And you're going to hell.
Yay!!!

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.

P.E.A.C.E.
People Eating All the Crazy Elves.
[I just made that up.]

Bye.

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.
[Yay!]

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?
Wal-Mart.
Yup.

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.

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.
www.youtube.com/user/omgitsatree
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.
Huzzah.
That's about it.

Now, tell me which user account to use for my new VLOGs.
-omgitsatree
-FlaggedF0rPvP
-EpicFaceDesk

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.
Peace.

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.

Sorry.
Tourettes.

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*
Me:: SON OF A FUCKING WHORE.


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.


-sighs-

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

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:: STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE.
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?

No?

You fail.

BYE

I hate all of you.

All of you.
I mean it.
I'm not trying to be funny.
[Well, okay. Maybe I am.]
But whatever.
Haven't seen you guys since Thanksgiving.
Well, I've got a lot of news for you.
Not that you care.
But I like to think that you do.

So I moved.
Few of you know that I lived in VA Beach.
Now I'm in Pittsburgh.
Yay incredible distances.

I'm not going to tell you my reasons for moving.
I'm too lazy.
But what I am going to do in this blog is, well...
Bitch.

I've got a few people who read this.
I have no idea why.
But they do.

Now for those of you who do read it, leave me some feedback.
I demand it.
Demand.

I'm new to this whole blog thing.
Yeah, that's right.

I'm a goddamn n00b.

Think I care?

Well you're right.

I do.

Now, either comment or gtfo.

You can say anything.

Find a news article you find riveting?
Did your 13 year old cousin get knocked up?
Lose 58 lbs on a Chinese take-out diet?
Well lemme know, bitches.

I like to hear all the fail stories in the world.
And exploit them.

Speaking of stories I can exploit, you gotta hear this.
Since my blog is called people-fail, I intend to inform you of just how much people do fail.
Like this one story.
[Link to story will be located at the bottom of blog so you know I'm not bullshitting you.]


There's this girl, right?
She's 15 years old, living in Missouri.
And, get this, murders this 9 year old girl.

Now, I know what you're thinking.
"What in God's name was this girl thinking? Why would she do such a thing?!"
Some of you might assume it's because she had a good reason.
Maybe the 9 year old was attacking her with a monkey or something.
There has to be SOME reason, right?

Well you would be wrong, my viewer.
She did it, and I do quote, "to see what it would feel like."

Me:: Yeah, I'm kinda bored. I think I'm going to go kill a little girl just for the hell of it. Fuck ramifications!

Now that you're sitting in your seats utterly stunned, I'm going to continue.
She planned this shit.
Planned it.
Had two graves dug up.

Courts have decided to try her as an adult.
Her trial is set for sometime in December.
But what shocks me is that I can't find a single report that tells me what the second grave was for.

Now it's been said that she's had severe depression since 2007.
As if that explains everything.

Last I heard, people with severe depression tried to kiss themselves.
Not the 9 yr-old down the street.

15 yr-old murderer:: My life sucks. Everything is miserable. Edward Cullen isn't real. Bitch bitch, ect. So instead of killing myself, which would seem logical since my life clearly sucks so much, I'm think I'll kill someone else.
Me:: That doesn't seem too smart there, kid.
Murderer:: Whatever. Nobody cares what you think. And by the way... You're not funny.
Me:: Ouch! Talk about hitting below the belt, man. Not cool. Well, your life sucks and you'll pay for this later so I mean, whatever. Carry on.
Murderer:: There's that new guy down the street... no, he could probably kick my ass. Hmm... I could kill my mom, but then who would be there to give me attention? No, how about that little girl nearby? Yeah. That should do it.
Me:: *eats popcorn*
Murderer:: Now I feel guilty so I'm gonna tell police where she's buried even though nobody has been able to find her thus far and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be able to link me to it even if they DID find her.
Me:: This stopped being funny 3 minutes ago.



Okay, so maybe I'm a bad person for making fun of this chick.
But I mean come ON.
Bitch is stupid.
I'm pretty sure I've known 3 year olds smarter than this chick.

And it just pisses me off so much that people are trying to defend her.

Lawyer:: She's just a child! Sending her to prison as an adult would be wrong!
Me:: She committed premeditated murder.
Lawyer:: It's not her fault. She's depressed!
Me:: Depression doesn't make people kill little girls!
Lawyer:: You can't prove that!
Me:: I don't have to. You're going to lose this case anyways.
Lawyer:: And what makes you think that?
Me:: ... BECAUSE THE BITCH STABBED THIS GIRL TO DEATH, SLIT HER THROAT, AND BURIED HER.
Lawyer:: Yeah, but-
Me:: SLIT HER THROAT.
Lawyer:: I know, but-
Me:: AND BURIED HER.
Lawyer:: If you would just-
Me:: Not because she was depressed. She admitted it was because she wanted to know what it felt like. BITCH IS CRAZY.
Lawyer:: Exactly! So she should be in a mental institution.
Me:: Then send her to one, but don't try to pretend that this was beyond her. Bitch knew what she was doing. Knew it was wrong. Even felt guilty afterwards. She probably is mentally disturbed, but don't say 'go easy on her' because she's young.


Seriously, people.
Girls are maturing faster and faster at younger ages these days.
She's 15. She knew what she was doing. 3 years hardly makes any difference.
I think they were right to try her as an adult.
Maybe the bitch will learn not to stab little girls to death.


Oh well.
Decide for yourself.
I'm just gonna go make a sammich.

CLICK THIS FOR STORY

Bye.

Thanksgiving: Back with a Vengeance

Fuck this holiday.
What's the point anyway?

Pilgrim:: Hey, naked savage.
Native:: Welcome to our land. Would you like some corn?
Pilgrim:: No, but I will gladly rape you and give you lots of diseases.
Native:: .... What?
Pilgrim:: Yeah. Now bend the fuck over.


Yeah. Real nice holiday you got there.
But alas, it wasn't all bad.
Got a surprising call from my sister.

Me:: What.
Sister:: Are you coming over?
Me:: Is the slagwhore there?
Sister:: No. She couldn't make it.
Me:: YOU LIE.
Sister:: No, I mean it. She's not here.
Me:: You're lying. She's there. I can feel it in the force.
Sister:: Charlotte, mom's not here. She didn't have the money to make it out.
Me:: Your Jedi mind tricks will not work on me. You just want me to think she's not there.
Me:: Get me in your confidence, that's it. Well no, missy. I refuse.
Sister:: Okay, how about this? Drive over here. You'll see that her car isn't here.
Me:: She's smart. She wouldhave parked somewhere. Or gotten a new car or something.
Sister:: Fine. No cranberry sauce for you.
Me:: ..... D:
Sister:: See you in 10, then?
Me:: I hate you.
Sister:: I know.



So yeah, I drove down and, naturally, the woman's car was not there. But I didn't trust it.
So I drove around the street, even checked the park nearby, all to make sure she wasn't there.
Didn't spot her shitty truck anywhere.
So I go to the house and as soon as I reach the front door, I remember something.
I don't know what her new car looks like.

So I'm looking down the street, seeing all these foreign cars around.
My heart was racing.
They got me.
They fucking got me.
My sister answers the door.
I step inside...
She wasn't there.
I swear, it felt like finding Jesus under a rock.
[That fucker is harder to find than Waldo on Godmode.]
You know, the last page where EVERYONE is dressed as Waldo?
Hated that page.


So, 4 turkeys later, I go to my best friends house.
We ride four-wheelers.
Gossiped.
Made fun of drunk people.
Cut up shirts to make them look like they belong in the 70's.
You know.
Normal Thanksgiving stuff.

Oh, and we watched a movie that failed.
Failed pretty hard.
It was another one of those prophecy movies with shitty acting.
The plot made no sense.
My brain turned to mush.
-sigh-
If you're interested, which I know you're not, it's called the Celestine Prophecy.
Pretty fail.

Well, until people annoy me again.
~Charlotte