As a 17 year-old girl, who is a junior, who is getting ready for my first prom, I was needin' a date as well as freakin' the fuck out. My first date I had in line was the cretin from the previous post.
I'll play a little catch up on that sitch. The day after the party everything was fine, he seemed totally cool when we went back to get my clothes and my hopes were up, maybe I hadn't made too much of an ass of myself the night before... I waited and waited for a text... desperate much, I know, but I'm not afraid to admit it. Girl's gotta dream.
Still zilch from Mr. Adorable Redneck. Then approx two days later I pulled into the gas station I always go to and guess who just happened to be there??? You Know Who. In his little ford ranger. WTF was I supposed to do? I acted like I didn't see him for a few minutes and then when I caught him giving my car the up and down, I smiled and waved. He waved back. That's the last time I ever communicated with the ass munch.
Side note: It's totes cool to just hook up in my opinion. Absolutely ay-okay. But just ya know, fuckin' tell me that. Don't drag on the bullshit. Don't put your arm around me in the movie theater, tell me all about your mommy and daddy issues, ask me everything about me, do the whole kiss goodnight thing and get me to fucking like you just to do that shit. NOT COOL. I'm one of those people that don't really let a lot of people get that close and when I do you're fuckin' lucky. And just to pull that shit... It's a pain in my ass. Makes me hate people even more.
Moreover, prom was approaching swift and steady and I still had no date. And my naggy friend with a boyfriend would not get off my back about it. I finally did some digging of my own and cyber hacked my way into getting my other "anti-prom friend" (same friend I took to the party from last post) to go to prom with my group. The hot-bearded guy she was makingout with at the party was more than down to crash our prom. He even ditched out on some other girl to go with my friend. So hear she is, all anti-prom with a hot date at the ready. Fuck, I couldn't even beg for a date. Lucky bitch.
My dress was full out Cinderella, fluff and all. I had so much money riding on this one night it was ridiculous.
I had been hanging out with my friend, lets call her Kat and her boyfriend Chit like everyday. I was the perfect third wheel. It was never awkward. Finally one day Chit thought he found me a prom date... Two problems, he had a girlfriend (not my problem, I just wanted him for prom pictures) and he couldn't grow hair (okay, kinda looks like Mr. Clean). But I was cool with it. The plan was to go as friends and just have a PG rated good time as a group.
Mr. Clean dropped out like a week away from prom. I had already bought his ticket and everything. God dammit. Apparently he was only going because him and his girlfriend were fighting. Tool-tastic.
In a rush, My friend Ashley put her older brother up to the task of being my date. What a brave soul, the rest had dropped like flies.
We got Thomas fitted for his suit and ready to go.
The day before prom, everything was falling into place, Kat and I got our pimped out prom ride all spick and span. And then it was time for a sleep over at my house. The parents went for a night at a casino so it was party time. Kat, Chit and I mobbed through my small town, misplacing traffic cones, strutting through the adult shop, and just raising hell (a very small, sober hell). That was one of the funnest nights I've ever had. I was even getting over my cold or so I thought.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Monday, June 17, 2013
The Untold Autobiography of the Girl Who Always Gets Drunk and Makes Horrible Decisions
When you think of high school, you think of dating hot guys, partying, drinking, bonfires, sneaking out, and raising hell. Up until the middle of my junior year my life consisted of none of those things. I began to think that all that stuff was a myth and it was all just to make movies about teenagers a tad bit more interesting. Well, I was wrong. It's real.
You are about to catch the retelling of my downward spiral into a dazed and confused insanity. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
It all started on a cold day in late March. I received a text from some guy in Sutherlin who said that a mutual friend gave him my number. I was like "OK, no harm in talking to the kid. Nothing could happen." Boy was I wrong.
We continued flirtexting over the next several days and it was crunch time. I had to meet the guy. I, who had not been on a real date in well over a year, was freakin' the fuck out. A million doubts were running through my head. I had no idea how to act. What would I say? What would we talk about? Would he even like me after meeting me in person?
He picked me up from my grandmas right on time, after I had given him the wrong directions (I'm such a spaz!). He was even cuter in person. Oh crap.
He was a whirlwind of badboy wrapped up in a worn hickory. He was the exact kinda guy my mother warned me not to get involved with. (what's not to like? what could go wrong?)
Aside from taking a leak in the parking lot of the movie theatre, the date was very nice. He kept his hands off of my merchandise like a real gentleman and he was even concerned about pulling my hair when his arm was around me. After the movie got out we drove around for awhile, and not ready to take me home quite yet, he parked a few miles from my house. You'd think that this is where my pg story would take a sharp turn to the X department. But no, the gentleman facade was still up. We talked about everything. His issues with his divorced, uninvolved parents, mine with my together, and controlling parents. Ex's, lack thereof, friends, best friends, partying, phobias, pretty much everything under the sun.
The clock on the dash was pushing towards two. My mom was probably walking the ceilings. I had to get. When he dropped me off at my grandma's he gave me an innocent (okay, maybe a smidgin of tongue) kiss and send me on my way with a hug.
Butterflies. My first actual date in quite a while and I had butterflies. The text that came a little later asking if I made it home safely didn't help the matters any. Of course I did what any girl in my situation would do and I called one of my best friends. I felt a connection, or atleast I thought I did.
The next day I had to work but when I got off, I had a message from him. He had invited me to a party at his house that night. I was beyond excited. I already had a change of clothes in my car. Just had to slip my mom a little white lie and I was on my way. First, I called another one of my best friends and asked her if she wanted to go to the party with me. I couldn't go alone! I needed my wing woman. She agreed. I made a quick phone call to my mom, I played it off that I was spending the night with a friend.
The butterflies were still present, even more so due to the nerves. I had no clue where this guy even lived, thank god my friend was driving and knew the area. I clutched on to my micro bottles of JD like they were my safety blanket.
The party is abuzz with those familiar faces that you've heard of but don't really know. The crowd that you don't really want to be associated with in good company. But the beer was cold, music was country, and the cloying green smoke was leeching out of the parked cars. It was a party. A real one. There was no board games or balloons at this shindig.
I didn't know anybody and I needed something to calm my nerves, so three shots of jack sounded fuckin' A- fantastic. Not the smartest plan now that I think back on that moment. I was stealing hats and dirty dancin to Earl Dibbles Jr. I was all kinds of trashy and I was thinkin' it was classy. People were getting a little rough with the household materials and brakin' shit. This made the party host, A.K.A my date, pretty damn pissed off. He went storming off to his bedroom to pout. And my friend insisted that I go see if he was ok. Stupid move.
I went in, he motioned me over to sit on his bed. I did, like a dumbass. I can't remember exactly how it happened but we ended up making out hot and heavy. He started trying to take my clothes off. This was the one thing that kinda sobered my drunk ass up. I was currently unavailable and taking a red eye flight if you know what I mean. I had thought that mother nature's monthly was good enough birth control. I was like "hold up". I couldn't be a tease... I started going down on him. Baaaad decision. A drunk girl should never have anything go past her uvula. I was about three minutes into it when I felt it come up. The alcohol and bile made its way up to my mouth. I shot up and caught most of it on my hands. The remainder landed on my $200 pants. I ran outside. And I was wayyyy too drunk to be embarrassed. I puked off of the porch and stripped down to my skivvies. Somebody was supposed to bring me back some pants, but I had bigger and better things to be doing, such as taking a piss on some guys SUV. I might've puked a little too....
Someone finally reigned me inside, and what did I do? I went right back into the bedroom with the guy. I was sans pants this time around. My thought process was left somewhere behind at "it's ok just to make out." My mind took a backseat and just let my lips do the thinking.
I didn't see any harm in dry humping but apparently guys think that that is an open invitation to your pants. I was way to drunk to be mortified that he was putting his mouth any where near my business and then when he tried to take my shirt off, I stopped him. Then I realized I was a little late of that one. The ship had sailed. He was already inside of me.
This is where I blacked out. I have no recollection following this memory up until someone came and got me from the bedroom. Raising me from my self induced hell. I was unaware of all the fights that had broken out while I was in his room for a rumored four hours. My friend that I had brought with me ended up making out with a hot bearded guy by the washer and dryer and had plans to leave me before all of the shit went down. I was dragged out of the bedroom and shoved into a car wearing nothing but a borrowed pair of shorts and a tank top. I spent the remainder of the night (wee hours of the morning) at my friends sleeping off some of my stupor. I woke up around nine-ish to the sounds of people moving about upstairs. My head was fuzzy and could barely wrap around a coherent thought. Great. Hungover. I stumbled upstairs to the smell of hot coffee, still wearing the guys shorts from last night. Which reminded me that I had left my pants, socks, and shoes out there the night before. No problem, things were crazy but they weren't too bad, I can just go get them, I thought. I changed into my extra pants and my friend and I made the drive down the road to go pick up my stuff, a whirl of emotions swirling through my hungover brain, embarrassment, excitement, nerves. We walk in, the guys truck is parked in the driveway, somebody didn't make it to work. There were signs of the party throughout the whole house: beer bottles in the sink, a broken chair on the washer, and a broken coffee table. We made our way into his bedroom, the sight of my torrid affair of the previous night. There he was. He seemed perfectly fine, still joking about the night before. He asked why his pants were on and his underwear weren't. My friend informed him that one of his friends had to dress him and that he was naked when everyone came in his bedroom. His next remark was that we'd have to do it again so he could remember it. I gave him a hug goodbye, gathered my pile of wet clothes from the porch, and thought all was okay in my little lust/love-land.
That is until I remembered that I had forgotten to take my "pill" and a condom was an afterthought that night. And he decided to never talk to me again. FML.
This isn't the whole story or the only story; there is plenty more to come in the later chapters. This is just the start of the real good stuff.
You are about to catch the retelling of my downward spiral into a dazed and confused insanity. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
It all started on a cold day in late March. I received a text from some guy in Sutherlin who said that a mutual friend gave him my number. I was like "OK, no harm in talking to the kid. Nothing could happen." Boy was I wrong.
We continued flirtexting over the next several days and it was crunch time. I had to meet the guy. I, who had not been on a real date in well over a year, was freakin' the fuck out. A million doubts were running through my head. I had no idea how to act. What would I say? What would we talk about? Would he even like me after meeting me in person?
He picked me up from my grandmas right on time, after I had given him the wrong directions (I'm such a spaz!). He was even cuter in person. Oh crap.
He was a whirlwind of badboy wrapped up in a worn hickory. He was the exact kinda guy my mother warned me not to get involved with. (what's not to like? what could go wrong?)
Aside from taking a leak in the parking lot of the movie theatre, the date was very nice. He kept his hands off of my merchandise like a real gentleman and he was even concerned about pulling my hair when his arm was around me. After the movie got out we drove around for awhile, and not ready to take me home quite yet, he parked a few miles from my house. You'd think that this is where my pg story would take a sharp turn to the X department. But no, the gentleman facade was still up. We talked about everything. His issues with his divorced, uninvolved parents, mine with my together, and controlling parents. Ex's, lack thereof, friends, best friends, partying, phobias, pretty much everything under the sun.
The clock on the dash was pushing towards two. My mom was probably walking the ceilings. I had to get. When he dropped me off at my grandma's he gave me an innocent (okay, maybe a smidgin of tongue) kiss and send me on my way with a hug.
Butterflies. My first actual date in quite a while and I had butterflies. The text that came a little later asking if I made it home safely didn't help the matters any. Of course I did what any girl in my situation would do and I called one of my best friends. I felt a connection, or atleast I thought I did.
The next day I had to work but when I got off, I had a message from him. He had invited me to a party at his house that night. I was beyond excited. I already had a change of clothes in my car. Just had to slip my mom a little white lie and I was on my way. First, I called another one of my best friends and asked her if she wanted to go to the party with me. I couldn't go alone! I needed my wing woman. She agreed. I made a quick phone call to my mom, I played it off that I was spending the night with a friend.
The butterflies were still present, even more so due to the nerves. I had no clue where this guy even lived, thank god my friend was driving and knew the area. I clutched on to my micro bottles of JD like they were my safety blanket.
The party is abuzz with those familiar faces that you've heard of but don't really know. The crowd that you don't really want to be associated with in good company. But the beer was cold, music was country, and the cloying green smoke was leeching out of the parked cars. It was a party. A real one. There was no board games or balloons at this shindig.
I didn't know anybody and I needed something to calm my nerves, so three shots of jack sounded fuckin' A- fantastic. Not the smartest plan now that I think back on that moment. I was stealing hats and dirty dancin to Earl Dibbles Jr. I was all kinds of trashy and I was thinkin' it was classy. People were getting a little rough with the household materials and brakin' shit. This made the party host, A.K.A my date, pretty damn pissed off. He went storming off to his bedroom to pout. And my friend insisted that I go see if he was ok. Stupid move.
I went in, he motioned me over to sit on his bed. I did, like a dumbass. I can't remember exactly how it happened but we ended up making out hot and heavy. He started trying to take my clothes off. This was the one thing that kinda sobered my drunk ass up. I was currently unavailable and taking a red eye flight if you know what I mean. I had thought that mother nature's monthly was good enough birth control. I was like "hold up". I couldn't be a tease... I started going down on him. Baaaad decision. A drunk girl should never have anything go past her uvula. I was about three minutes into it when I felt it come up. The alcohol and bile made its way up to my mouth. I shot up and caught most of it on my hands. The remainder landed on my $200 pants. I ran outside. And I was wayyyy too drunk to be embarrassed. I puked off of the porch and stripped down to my skivvies. Somebody was supposed to bring me back some pants, but I had bigger and better things to be doing, such as taking a piss on some guys SUV. I might've puked a little too....
Someone finally reigned me inside, and what did I do? I went right back into the bedroom with the guy. I was sans pants this time around. My thought process was left somewhere behind at "it's ok just to make out." My mind took a backseat and just let my lips do the thinking.
I didn't see any harm in dry humping but apparently guys think that that is an open invitation to your pants. I was way to drunk to be mortified that he was putting his mouth any where near my business and then when he tried to take my shirt off, I stopped him. Then I realized I was a little late of that one. The ship had sailed. He was already inside of me.
This is where I blacked out. I have no recollection following this memory up until someone came and got me from the bedroom. Raising me from my self induced hell. I was unaware of all the fights that had broken out while I was in his room for a rumored four hours. My friend that I had brought with me ended up making out with a hot bearded guy by the washer and dryer and had plans to leave me before all of the shit went down. I was dragged out of the bedroom and shoved into a car wearing nothing but a borrowed pair of shorts and a tank top. I spent the remainder of the night (wee hours of the morning) at my friends sleeping off some of my stupor. I woke up around nine-ish to the sounds of people moving about upstairs. My head was fuzzy and could barely wrap around a coherent thought. Great. Hungover. I stumbled upstairs to the smell of hot coffee, still wearing the guys shorts from last night. Which reminded me that I had left my pants, socks, and shoes out there the night before. No problem, things were crazy but they weren't too bad, I can just go get them, I thought. I changed into my extra pants and my friend and I made the drive down the road to go pick up my stuff, a whirl of emotions swirling through my hungover brain, embarrassment, excitement, nerves. We walk in, the guys truck is parked in the driveway, somebody didn't make it to work. There were signs of the party throughout the whole house: beer bottles in the sink, a broken chair on the washer, and a broken coffee table. We made our way into his bedroom, the sight of my torrid affair of the previous night. There he was. He seemed perfectly fine, still joking about the night before. He asked why his pants were on and his underwear weren't. My friend informed him that one of his friends had to dress him and that he was naked when everyone came in his bedroom. His next remark was that we'd have to do it again so he could remember it. I gave him a hug goodbye, gathered my pile of wet clothes from the porch, and thought all was okay in my little lust/love-land.
That is until I remembered that I had forgotten to take my "pill" and a condom was an afterthought that night. And he decided to never talk to me again. FML.
This isn't the whole story or the only story; there is plenty more to come in the later chapters. This is just the start of the real good stuff.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Picking Up the Pieces..
Our tiny little school has been through so much over the past few years and we were hit with another tragedy this weekend. A good friend of mine, Joe Spencer, made the mistake of choosing to end his life last Friday and leave us all behind in his wake.
The Oakland High School has been in shambles since then. We are all confused on so many different levels. Our tight knit community just shut down on the spot.
Losing Joe has changed things for a lot of people, we lost a friend, brother, son, cousin, student, team mate. I can't even comprehend the pain felt by his family at this time. The best I can do is empathize and pray for them to get through this hard time.
The reality definitely hasn't set in and probably will take months to get the full affect of everything. Now I just get the chills thinking about it and catch myself refusing to believe the truth of the situation. I keep pushing it under the rug and telling myself lies to keep the tears away. I need to face the cold hard truth. Emotional breakdown or not, lying to myself is getting me no where.
I would like everyone to know that if you need someone to hug, cry with, or talk to, I am always here. You can always come to me. I need you just as much as you need me. I love all of you <3
The Oakland High School has been in shambles since then. We are all confused on so many different levels. Our tight knit community just shut down on the spot.
Losing Joe has changed things for a lot of people, we lost a friend, brother, son, cousin, student, team mate. I can't even comprehend the pain felt by his family at this time. The best I can do is empathize and pray for them to get through this hard time.
The reality definitely hasn't set in and probably will take months to get the full affect of everything. Now I just get the chills thinking about it and catch myself refusing to believe the truth of the situation. I keep pushing it under the rug and telling myself lies to keep the tears away. I need to face the cold hard truth. Emotional breakdown or not, lying to myself is getting me no where.
I would like everyone to know that if you need someone to hug, cry with, or talk to, I am always here. You can always come to me. I need you just as much as you need me. I love all of you <3
Friday, March 29, 2013
This Week's Top Songs
1) Radioactive Imagine Dragons2) Stay Rihanna feat. Mikky Ekko
3) Wicked Game Phillip Phillips
4) Light Em Up Fallout Boy
5) Just Give Me A Reason P!nk feat. Nate Ruess
6) Pour It Up Rihanna
7) Madness Muse
8) Harlem Shake Baauer (Not one for the thrilling lyrics...)
9) The Harold Song Ke$ha (Pretty much unheard of but it's one of her best)
10) Sweet Nothing Calvin Harris feat. Florence Welch
F*ck Double Standards and the Horse They Rode In On
The one thing that I can put on top of my big fat hate list is double standards. Right next to that twat Daisy Campbell.
I don't understand how people can make a judgement about someone that they don't hold to themselves or other people. In a way my hatred for double standards kinda turned me into a tad bit of a slut my freshman year. My dim-witted philosophy was, "Hey, if I'm gonna makeout with him, then I can't not makeout with this guy." I quickly re-routed my ideals because that road was the fast track to herpes and that's not the car ride I was in for. Now I just hate double standards as a judgmental thing rather than a physical law.
And the double standard of the freshman. Everyone's supposed to hate freshman because they are soooo "immature". I call bullshit. We were all f*cking freshman at one time and who gives a flying f*ck if freshman like to goof off. Let them have the last year of their childhood without flicking them shit all of the time. Maybe maturity is the root of all evil. I would much rather see a freshman giggling and throwing spitballs down the hall instead of giving people sexual favors in the bathrooms and smoking cigarettes in the parking lot like the "mature" freshman are doing. Being pressured by the double standards of "what is cool" and "what is mature" create the little f*cktards that roam our small towns streets.
Now I will proceed to get in to the story about why I hate the previously mentioned twat. Well, like two weeks ago one of my friends jackets came up missing. It wasn't a big deal, seeing as it was a gift from her ex-boyfriend and was over two years old. But it was still an inconvenience given that it was one of her favorite jackets.
I was cruising through instagram and I about shit my pants. Little miss, pot-head, shit for brains, Daisy Campbell posted a picture of herself in my friends jacket!! And then got into an argument with me and my friend claiming it was new and that her parents got it for her!!! Well then her parents must shop at the f*cking goodwill then cuzzz damn that sweatshirt is over TWO years old. And did I forget to mention that the her best friend was the suspect in stealing it.
And she runs her god damn mouth like there's no tomorrow. Well maybe it's because she's so used to her big ass horse teeth keeping her trap open all the time. Ya know, this tiff wouldn't have escalated to such a deep seeded hatred if she had just owned up to her thieving ways. Everyone who reads this and knows both Aysha and Daisy, head on over to Daisy's Instagram @daisyjanecampbell and check out her pics for your self. I bet you will recognize the jacket as AYSHA'S. Damn, Daisy, you should have had enough sense to tell your henchmen to pick out something of hers that she didn't almost wear everyday. OBVI, somebody needs to become a better thief if you want to support your children. Oh, wait! Silly me! that's what you have welfare for!
I don't understand how people can make a judgement about someone that they don't hold to themselves or other people. In a way my hatred for double standards kinda turned me into a tad bit of a slut my freshman year. My dim-witted philosophy was, "Hey, if I'm gonna makeout with him, then I can't not makeout with this guy." I quickly re-routed my ideals because that road was the fast track to herpes and that's not the car ride I was in for. Now I just hate double standards as a judgmental thing rather than a physical law.
And the double standard of the freshman. Everyone's supposed to hate freshman because they are soooo "immature". I call bullshit. We were all f*cking freshman at one time and who gives a flying f*ck if freshman like to goof off. Let them have the last year of their childhood without flicking them shit all of the time. Maybe maturity is the root of all evil. I would much rather see a freshman giggling and throwing spitballs down the hall instead of giving people sexual favors in the bathrooms and smoking cigarettes in the parking lot like the "mature" freshman are doing. Being pressured by the double standards of "what is cool" and "what is mature" create the little f*cktards that roam our small towns streets.
Bitch-Time
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| Wow, Aysha even has a hat like that! ;) Talk about CRUSH! |
Now I will proceed to get in to the story about why I hate the previously mentioned twat. Well, like two weeks ago one of my friends jackets came up missing. It wasn't a big deal, seeing as it was a gift from her ex-boyfriend and was over two years old. But it was still an inconvenience given that it was one of her favorite jackets.
I was cruising through instagram and I about shit my pants. Little miss, pot-head, shit for brains, Daisy Campbell posted a picture of herself in my friends jacket!! And then got into an argument with me and my friend claiming it was new and that her parents got it for her!!! Well then her parents must shop at the f*cking goodwill then cuzzz damn that sweatshirt is over TWO years old. And did I forget to mention that the her best friend was the suspect in stealing it.
And she runs her god damn mouth like there's no tomorrow. Well maybe it's because she's so used to her big ass horse teeth keeping her trap open all the time. Ya know, this tiff wouldn't have escalated to such a deep seeded hatred if she had just owned up to her thieving ways. Everyone who reads this and knows both Aysha and Daisy, head on over to Daisy's Instagram @daisyjanecampbell and check out her pics for your self. I bet you will recognize the jacket as AYSHA'S. Damn, Daisy, you should have had enough sense to tell your henchmen to pick out something of hers that she didn't almost wear everyday. OBVI, somebody needs to become a better thief if you want to support your children. Oh, wait! Silly me! that's what you have welfare for!
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Crazy, Beautiful, Life
It's a party, it's a passion. I'm throwing up pretty and plastered.
The 99 Club
The youth of America would rather spit down blasphemous gossip than put pride in the will of others,
We would rather dedicate our time to turning our peers into emotional ruin than try to make them feel welcome, we put forth the energy to destruct people around us without worrying about picking up the pieces. We leave our walls up stronger than ever in hopes that no one will knock us down and by doing that brick by brick, it gets harder to let any one in. Each brick to your fortress gets you farther from the pain that others inflict. You start not caring and become immune to the cruelties of the world. You become so weathered by the pain inflicted that you don't notice any of the love. The tiny one percent that doesn't want to tear you down. The one percent that tries picking up the pieces left by the other ninety-nine. The one percent that tries to make the lives of others better by taking the time to climb over those brick walls.
In truth the other ninety-nine isn't what we consider evil, we are the 99%. The people who gossip, talk behind peoples backs, spread the cruelty around to everyone like syphillus. The 99 that find amusement in others pain. Remember, every time you laugh at the cost of someone else, there is one more brick added to that persons wall of distrust. One more step away from love and trust for that person. Think before you speak 99.
For we all can be one.
The 99 Club
The youth of America would rather spit down blasphemous gossip than put pride in the will of others,
We would rather dedicate our time to turning our peers into emotional ruin than try to make them feel welcome, we put forth the energy to destruct people around us without worrying about picking up the pieces. We leave our walls up stronger than ever in hopes that no one will knock us down and by doing that brick by brick, it gets harder to let any one in. Each brick to your fortress gets you farther from the pain that others inflict. You start not caring and become immune to the cruelties of the world. You become so weathered by the pain inflicted that you don't notice any of the love. The tiny one percent that doesn't want to tear you down. The one percent that tries picking up the pieces left by the other ninety-nine. The one percent that tries to make the lives of others better by taking the time to climb over those brick walls.
In truth the other ninety-nine isn't what we consider evil, we are the 99%. The people who gossip, talk behind peoples backs, spread the cruelty around to everyone like syphillus. The 99 that find amusement in others pain. Remember, every time you laugh at the cost of someone else, there is one more brick added to that persons wall of distrust. One more step away from love and trust for that person. Think before you speak 99.
For we all can be one.
What a Wicked Game to Play...
Dirrty Top Ten
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| My Jace <3 |
- Sick&Tired: It's the middle of the year and my patience is already running at an all time low. There seems to always be something that burns my beans, melts my butter, takes my juju and it's always impossible to foresee let alone control. I guess I just gotta let the lyrics flow and let go of everything that's itching me. Life's a huge blur of high school right now.
- People Problems: I used to be a people person. USED TO, key words there. Until the people ruined that for me. It sucks when the people that are close to you just annoy the sh*t out of you.
- Spring Break Retakes: I had a week in Hawaii and now I'm on spring break. My parents continue to keep me quarantined to my house and away from my friends sooo I guess by the end of this week I'm going to be socially awkward from the lack of conversation I've had out side of family. #thankgodfortheinternet
- Since my mom went cray cray with round-up on our backyard when my dad cheated on her, everyone's outside pulling up dead plants. Yeah, not me. F*ck that. I don't even like yard work and the h*ll I'm cleaning something up like that. I think my dad should be the one to get his a** out there and pick everything up. #FTS.
- UGH- Don't even get me started on the dumb*ss reason I got grounded. Apparently if you are a responsible young adult, you still get treated like a category four criminal. Seriously, my mom acts like I do drugs and have sexual relationships with thirty year old bikers. Ya know what I do in my free time? Play of f*cking Facebook and read books. Whoop Whoop! We got a real bada** over in this park!
- Sun's out, Buns out! B*tches these days! It gets over forty degrees in Oregon and here comes the booty shorts and tube tops. Excuse me ladies, we don't need to see your cooter before Memorial Day. Keep that sh*t locked up before the fact that you give it away for free becomes obvi, ohhh wait it already is ;)
- Nerd Alert- Gotta shout out my the best books I've ever read! Everyone needs to get on reading The Mortal Instruments and The Infernal Devices before the movie comes out! I'm boycotting that sh*t. Who the h*ll thought that Jamie Campbell Bower was nearly hot enough to play Jace? YUCK. Alex Pettyfer all the friggin way. Seriously though, get on that sh*t.
- Wayne Freaking Newton!- Yeah, you heard it, Wayne Freaking Newton is coming to Seven Feathers. Can I get a Hallelujah? Doobiedoobiedooooouuu, ahhhahhhhahhhhaaaahhh!!
- Douglas County Fair!- We are finally making some progress with the artists that are going to be at our fair. We got White Snake (Here I go again on my own...), Three Doors Down, Dwight Yokam (?), and Clay Walker.
- I can't stand when my desk drawer won't close and it hangs up on my chair. It's the most annoying thing ever. Right now I am very annoyed. My ugg boots are making my feet really hot and my mom keeps making me walk up and down the stairs. And I keep running into things. Annoying #AF.
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| My Will Herondale |
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Preoccupado.
My fancy new camera has kept me away from blogging!Ugh. Who woulda thought?
My new Nikon completes me. I'm not sure how I'll be able to leave him at home during school. Ha! I dont have to! ;) I'm taking Xavier with me everywhere. School, work, hell I'll even sleep with him.
My keyboard is really starting to piss me off. It has a really low battery and keeps reminding me. gawwww Aint nobody got time for that!
Made my friend Alisha a cool new mix. Pretty awesome if I do say so myself.
Took a realllllly long shower. Feelin Fressh :)
Made a bucket list.
Over half way through The Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy.
The second one is wayyyyy better than the first. If you're planning on reading them try to remember that and keep it in mind that somewhere they actually do have to fall in love. It's not a completely mindless porno book. I was utterly disgusted reading parts of the first one but then you hit part deuce and it's all awwws and ahhhhwwws from then on out :)
My new Nikon completes me. I'm not sure how I'll be able to leave him at home during school. Ha! I dont have to! ;) I'm taking Xavier with me everywhere. School, work, hell I'll even sleep with him.
My keyboard is really starting to piss me off. It has a really low battery and keeps reminding me. gawwww Aint nobody got time for that!
Made my friend Alisha a cool new mix. Pretty awesome if I do say so myself.
Took a realllllly long shower. Feelin Fressh :)
Made a bucket list.
Over half way through The Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy.
The second one is wayyyyy better than the first. If you're planning on reading them try to remember that and keep it in mind that somewhere they actually do have to fall in love. It's not a completely mindless porno book. I was utterly disgusted reading parts of the first one but then you hit part deuce and it's all awwws and ahhhhwwws from then on out :)
Friday, December 28, 2012
Still annoying and jumpin' on my S.
To those lil b*tches who think my blog name is stupid, you aren't cool enough to even know what it means. My name i DDBree. Double-D Bree or Dirty Dolla Bill. So yeah, you are pretty much the lowest form of skitch in Lincoln, mind ur Beez or I'll kick ur 808's.
While you're attit, why don't you just stop readin' my shizznat if you're so hater about it. Maybe I should put an age restriction on it to keep out the lil pestie-bugs. Cuz they just tryna start S. My little bro must be friends with a hoe-lotta dumb whores. ;)
While you're attit, why don't you just stop readin' my shizznat if you're so hater about it. Maybe I should put an age restriction on it to keep out the lil pestie-bugs. Cuz they just tryna start S. My little bro must be friends with a hoe-lotta dumb whores. ;)
Had a sick Christmas b*tches!
My spoiled a** (refer to previous post), got a really amazing camera this Christmas. Among a whole buncha other shizz.
Lets Make a List:
Lets Make a List:
- Nikon D5100 with a fancy Nikkor lens- His name is Xavier
- 2 Underarmour Sweatshirts
- A Ducks hat, Browning hat, and a fuzzy red hat.
- Pitch Perfect
- Ducks Tumbler
- Pink Scarf and a Blue and Brown Scarf
- Stuffed Pug :.(
- Digital Photo Frame
- Fleece Pullover and Vest
- Sweater
- Underwear
- $100 Buckle Gift Card
- A Purse
- A Wallet
- Smell Goodies for my Car
- Pajama Shirt
- Ducks Car Sticker
- Hair Brush Set
- Spinbrush Tooth brush
- iHome
- Nikon Camera Case
- I know I'm missing something........
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| My Favorite Picture From Xavier |
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