July 2008
interview for an essay (gone wrong). My sister is...
Q: She likes her boys finger-lickin’ good, just as Oscar likes his girls with breasts out to there.
Q: Would you ever jump off a bridge with the intention of landing in front of a train?
A: No, unless Jesus Christ our lord and savior spoke to me.
A: HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME
Q: Why did you really bite me on the butt?
A: That would be easier to answer if I had any reccolecection of the incident at all. You spelled recollection wrong. And now you spelled it right. YAY!
Q: HOW DID I REALLY SPELL THAT.
A: Too many Cs
Q: What should I ask you?
A: WHAT SHOULD YOUR MOM ASK ME?
Q: Where’d you get all your STDs from?
A: Now that is a complicated question. See, I was in a group. So, I’m not sure who gave me what… but it was in the Lafayette cafeteria after Homecoming. I was wasted. Somebody had spiked the punch.
Q: … seriously?
A: Jesus, no.
Q: I think that’s enough for now.
A: Awww…. One more? One more?
Q: Well, if you want me that much…
A: YOU DID NOT SAY THAT. YOU JUST TYPED THAT.
Q: OH MY GOD EW EW EW WHY IN THE WORLD DID YOU JUST LICK MY STOMACH.
A: There needs to be a question mark. And, I did it because A) it is not your stomach, it is your shirt, and B) it looked shiny and tasty. I was not disappointed.
Q: IF YOU DO THAT AGAIN I WILL BEAT YOU UP.
A: So you’re allowed to buttrape me but I’m not allowed to lick your stomach? What kind of world is this?
Q: This interview is over.
A: You forgot the part about me missing your mole.
Q: …so much for the shirt I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE DISTURBED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. Why do you keep trying to lick me?!
A: Haven’t you ever seen something and been all, “oh my god I really want to lick that?” It’s like pictures in a museum! You can’t touch them, so you have to!
Q: Go to bed, dorkface.
A: You didn’t say that.
Q: Go to bed, dorkface.
A: Can I lick your mole?
Q: I hope you realize I’m tumbling this RIGHT NOW.
A: Are you also going to hand it out to your Kalamazoo associates?
Q: As long as you stop trying to lick me.
A: *weighs her options, literally* one more?
my sister is taking a summer health course. right...
S~ (towards the end of the test; labeling the parts of the male system): Okay, you get to take the penis test, because it's too long for me.
Portia: That's what SHE said!
S~: huh?
Portia: It's too long for me.
and i thought i escaped stuff like this when my...
Portia: OMG
Portia: guess what?!?!?!
S~: what!
S~: mom and dad went to bed and your hot boyfriends brought a keg over?
Portia: no. that was last night
S~: neil patrick harris is scantily clad in the living room?
Portia: i wish omg
S~: (and suddenly not so gay)
Portia: haha
Portia: no
S~: WHAT
S~: savannah won ten million dollars
S~: and is funding the party?
Portia: i'm on the potty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
S~: WHAT
S~: EW
gmail says, "why not sleep with him?". I wonder,... →
on how i'm turning into her
S~: OH MY GOD MOM DID YOU LIKE SNEAK INTO MY ROOM AND INJECT ME WITH LIKE, A [mom's first name redacted] VIRUS OR SOMETHING?
Mom: ...it's called DNA.
so my sister dropped her phone in the washing...
Mom: I guess I can get her a new one... because I never really did make you pay me back when you got your replacement...
S~: Yeah, but you did make me do all that work for you and dad...
Mom: Yeah, but I can make her give me some money, because she actually has it.
long winded lol
So I’ve been going through these poems that I wrote between the ages of eight and fifteen, so. totally feel free to not read. Because they’re all really crappy and about like, ~love~. :| A good number of the ones that I wrote after I started using a computer, rather than a notebook, to write them out first are resplendant with ‘u’ and ‘no’ instead of...
gmail: "Plan a summer reading list!" →
everything’s going to be all right, though.
