Yesterday I wasn't able to write a chapter because I was doing homework until 10pm because I had to do my research paper. That shit took so long because I had to do research and figure out how to write it in MLA format. I don't even know if the whole thing has to be in MLA format, it might just be the bibliography, if so, well I did that, bitch. My nose was so stuffed and I had to keep breathing through my mouth and I was scared because I didn't wanna look like a stupid thot with my damn mouth open every 30 seconds. I was also sweating a lot, which someone pointed out, and it's not really her fault, but my insecurity meter got turned up to MEGA INSECURE. I was sad at lunch, like usual, until I ate some food. Lunch is so boring. I can talk to Fanny, but I don't really know what to talk about. And these silly little fucknuts sitting near me are always screaming and calling each other faggots and putting milk in bags and shit. I got a 90 on my math quiz, and someone who sits next to me, I'm not gonna say names, was talking to someone else and they said that they got a question wrong because I had that answer on my paper and I almost went off. Like, you spicy cunt?? Can you just do your own work instead of looking at my shit all the time? It'd be tight as hell if Ms Castellano moved one of us so that I don't have to sit by that water bug. Maybe, she could move me next to... You know who? Oh my god, absolutely not. I mean, it could be nice, but I could also sweat and worry more that I already do. I don't even know what I'm so scared of. Like, he's just another human being. He's not above me or anything. That's a whole ass 12 (I think he might actually be 13 though, I'm not sure) year old boy. Not God. Because God is Billie Joe Armstrong. HE is above me. Although sometimes during school, when I'm in a daze, I don't like to admit it, but Billie Joe Armstrong >>> Y'all know who. They're both queens I guess. Until, I get over him and look back on this and cringe and go back in time and slap my goofy ass in the face. I want to do that to my sixth grade self. If sixth grade me ever said anything mean to you, disregard that smelly ape, she spelled 'probably' as 'probaly'. Oh no, we have gym tomorrow. I don't like Team Handball. Y'all know who is good at it though. Snacc.
Song Of The Day:
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The title is a little misleading, the sex she talks about is not the wild kind, she's talking about sexism. Wow.
