Thread

Lux

Written on Lux Lesley's blog: wickedprettyandwitty.tumblr.com

Time: 8:36 PM, 10/20/13

When: Lux Lesley had gotten home from spying on Clarice Goodman and Michael Thatcher's date.

"Sup, beyotches. 

Yeah, so I don't usually post shit about my life on this fabu-grunge blog, but, hey, baby, ya know ya love it. Either way, I don't give a shit. Or I'll pretend not to. It's what I do. 

Sooooo, I just got home from mah latest stalking job. Heh. 

I haven't mentioned Clarice, have I? Well, yeah, she's a girl. If you give a shit, get the hell of mah blog. In short, Clarice is... brilliant. Never mind. Not gettin' all sappy here. Not the place, not the time.

Anyway, so I followed her on her date with Thatcher, her wannabe loverboy. He's an ass. May be a biased opinion, but it's the one you're reading, yeah? 

This may sound stupid, but I know she did it to spite me. She's already said no to him once, and the one time she does, it's right in front of me while looking me in the eye? Yeah, okay, sure. 

So they went out for ice cream and did the whole adorable thing where someone just happens to get ice cream on their nose... you know the bit. They chase each other around tables while I nearly fall out of my tree from gagging. 

Then they went to a bookstore and stayed for four hours. FOUR HOURS. Don't get me wrong baby, I love bookstores. I could live in one. But not when I'm watching someone. I can't fucking watch someone as they silently glaze over titles. I just watched Clarice the whole time since they split directions. Not a whole waste of time, though. I love watching Clarice. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear forty-seven times. She likes psychology, chick-lit, dictionaries, foreign languages, and college-prep books. Fiddles with her watch clasp when she's interested in the book. 

My dear bitches, I'm not senty-mental. Not a basic girl who just melts for every sexy hunk a meat she sees. I don't believe in love stories. But let me pose one question before I sign off:

I've been looking for seventeen years, waiting for someone fascinating and brilliant and captivating and hypnotic. Someone to match my mind and intellect. 

I just watched a girl doing basically nothing for four hours. 

There's your question."