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Previous - this entry written on April 28, 2006 at 8:12 pm - Next I don't know if you're thinking I have THAT much of a short-term memory, or if it's 'just hormones' and so I'll be over it the next time you try talking to me, or if you're just monumentally stupid and inattentive as well as immature, but whatever the reason, no. I still have no desire to talk with you. Fuck you senseless, torture you until you can't stop crying, those sound maybe pleasant... ...but I won't be acting on them. It's obvious you have some serious growing up left to do, boy, and I have no interest in being treated like I'm back in sixth grade by someone who should really know better. Admittedly, not actually speaking on your part was almost a good move, you know how much I like sweet, animalistic little pets. The main problem was that cute as it was, it's still not enough to make up for telling me you think I'm lying about the obviously-upsetting-me pregnancy and for treating it like it's somehow fucking YOU over when I'm the one with the fucking crotch trophy growing inside me when it Should Not Be Possible. So yeah, since you seemed confused. I still have no use for an immature, rude, ill-behaved, stupid little brat. Go find an arcade to hang out in or something.
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