- Francis. says:
- First of all I was gonna just send everyone that picture of your tits
- Then I was gonna fuck as many of your friends as I could
- Then kick the shit out of Elliott
- Then tell your parents everything I know about you
- Then work on making you more socially unnacceptable than you are already
- And maybe even contact your work and tell them you're depressed and suicidal and a whore and you probably shouldn't be working with kids
ANYBODY WANT TO EXCHANGE 'THE DUCHESS' ON DVD FOR SOMETHING*?
it’s new and sealed. i got two by mistake on amazon.
*doesn’t have to be a dvd. maybe some sparkly glitter, or a book…
yes please
your songs remind me of swimming
ffs
hate my mum treating me like i’m five. calls me into my sister’s room and is all like ‘since june grandad has only had one lung’
WHY DID IT TAKE YOU SO FUCKING LONG TO TELL ME YOU IDIOT.
‘yeah, he had cancer, but now he doesn’t’
THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING RIGHT NOW TO TELL ME, WHEN MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND IS DYING FROM CANCER AND HAS FORGOTTEN WHO I AM BECAUSE SHE’S LOST HER MEMORY.
‘and don’t tell your brother’
WHY THE FUCK CAN’T I TELL HIM. HE’S NINE. HE’S NOT GOING TO DIE FROM KNOWING HIS GRANDAD IS PERFECTLY FINE, JUST HAS ONE LUNG.
ugghhh.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Kate Nash- Don’t You Want To Share The Guilt
I had the fucking scariest dream last night.
I was on holiday with my family in this weird theme park style place. It felt kind of abandoned, but there were people there. We were hanging around in this court-yard place, and I knew that at 11 something horrible would happen. Like some haunted attack. It turned 11 and the doors of this barn opened, to reveal hundreds of little piglets. They started eating, and they were growing so big. Like evil pigs, they were running about, squealing, dribbling, charging about. So I started running and running. The next thing I knew, I was in disney land. And the same had happened with these baby horses, but they were horses, and white, and attached to a glass carriage, so I didn’t really mind.
Then I woke up, to this text: Oh, and you know how I made you feel like you had worth? Try to realise now how truely worthless you are, just think about it. You are a walking cum tissue.
I think being known as some whore you’re not, is worse than a dream about killer pigs.
I wish I were Sylvia Plath
and I don’t just mean dead.
