MorrisseyxAngel

Fish 'n Chips
2001-06-20 04:45:58 (UTC)

-Melissa is a slut-

That's right. She's a big, fat slut. Actually, she isn't
fat. She's sort of anorexic looking, but oh well. I hate
that girl more than I've hated anything before. Well,
besides Tessa the Mexican and Kevin Nelson.

How could someone so *perfect* be so evil? And who REALLY
talks to you about your own boyfriend like that....as if he
isn't your boyfriend at all? Who REALLY tells someone's
girlfriend about how they're going to call that one special
person and do something with him. That's just fucked up. I
always knew she had more than just friendly feelings. Yea
right. But did he believe me? No. Why? Because I'm Megan.
And as we've established before, nobody ever cares about my
opinion. I'm just some psycho bitch. Anyhow----she needs to
be dragged (dragged? or drug? I don't know. I'm not the
greatest speller in the world.) out into the street and
shot. "Yes, I'll admit I had feelings for him about 6
months ago, but I don't anymore" Okay bitch. You told me
you did the night before. (of course...I was pretending to
be what she thought was Tom, oh well. Gotta find out
somehow) Telling "him" that she wanted to go out with him.
She wants his nuts and always has. But I'm through with
that. It's disgusting and pointless. She's not even worth
being discussed. Although I'm not really discussing
anything with anyone.

You know I can't not talk about Morrissey. He's my lover.
I'm pretty glad Tom got me listening to him. I like The
Smiths too. Obviously. They have a spiffy song
called "Girlfriend In a Coma" that I really like. I'm
assuming Morrissey was rather young then because his voice
sounded younger, and...ugh. I think I had an orgasm at one
point in the song. No lie. I bought a pretty nifty postcard
of him yesterday. It was only $1.25. Yes. Only a dollar and
twenty-five cents for a piece of cardboard. But oh well.
I'd give my left tit for one chance to like even....smell
him. I bet he smells pretty damn good too. Like.....uh,
british people. Heh. Anyhow, I let Tom take the postcard
home with him for that night. That is pathetic-ness-ity
right there. We are scary people. It's not scaryness
though, it's love. At least we're not as bad as Tom's aunt,
who honestly thinks she loves him. The same love that Tom
and I share. That is some deep infatuation. But oh well.
She's sweet and there's nothing wrong with her thinking she
loves him. Hehe.

-Megan


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