(Untitled)

[cake_and_death]

[there's a sign on the mess hall door today: "Now Serving Tuesday Vichyssoise." Come inside and you will indeed find pots of a lovely chilled puree... that doesn't look like it's made of potatoes]

. . . all the blenders, ruined.

((AND THEN I WAS SUDDENLY CALLED AWAY BY FAMILY. I'm sorry, I will pick up, please mingle!))

Comments

[burgercraving]

That sounds like an STD.

[boxbythebed]

That's called projection and I think it means that you need to go see a therapist.

[burgercraving]

I'm not here to be some self-help guide to feeling better about yourself. I don't even care. I'm just calling it like it is. You're afraid? So am I. But who gives a crap, right? No one would believe girls who look like us wanna hook up with other girls, so we're off the hook.

[boxbythebed]

Seriously, I would really appreciate it if you would stop thinking about who I'm letting near the Cave of Wonders, okay? You're starting to go beyond sad and straight into creep town.

[burgercraving]

Not really what I said there. Wow, this is easy.

[boxbythebed]

Go come out to someone else. I don't fucking care.

[burgercraving]

I barely mentioned sex, and it's just what you jumped to emphasize how uncomfortable you are. Bravo. Give it up.

[boxbythebed]

If you think you're gonna get away with attempting some sort of lezzie mind paradox to trick me into suddenly being into beaver, you're wrong.

Exhibit A: I don't do fuck to you, but you accuse me of liking you immediately. Exhibit B: You force your tongue into my mouth. Exhibit C: You beg me to let you live with me. Exhibit D: You just made an assumption about my sex life.

You wanna go toe-to-toe, princess? Because I'll win this game every single time you try to play it with me. 'Cause you know you've got absolutely nothing on me. You're like the human equivalent of Bionic. Go flop somewhere else you gross, desperate try-hard.

[burgercraving]

One, I didn't accuse you of anything. Not what I said, girl genius. Number two, you threatened me. Physically. Sure, it was just a punch, but you tried abusing me to try your point across, and you don't think I'm going to retaliate? Come on. Three: It's because I need someone who's strong enough to fight off the messed up monsters in this place, and guess what, it's not about you. It was Dante's idea. And four, you just invited me into your sex-life with your little arrangement. Have you made this same one with Dante? I've gotta wonder. Or is it different because it's me?

[boxbythebed]

You think you're really special, huh? How exactly is mentioning that sometimes I have people over an invite for you to open your huge, droopy, lower-face area about who you think those people are? I don't have to fucking make arrangements with Dante, because unlike you, he functions like a rational human being who doesn't need to be told to stay out of my business; he does that already by himself. Because he isn't psychotic.

And Christ, can you at least do me the courtesy of wearing a paper bag over your head or something? I'm getting sympathy pains from all the times you must have had your face slammed into a cement wall to get it so flat. You look like a Hallowe'en mask or some shit.

[burgercraving]

You walked up to me and invited me into ghost town, because that's what I feel like I'm looking at right now. Your hair looks like you tried out for a part in one of those crappy eighties movies about girls running around in pink dresses-only you didn't get the part, only a fierce case of bulimia that develops every time you get on your rag and you're bloated.

I mean, seriously. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were wearing one of those Scream masks under all that Halloween make-up and you're just waiting to walk off so you can call someone about their favorite scary movie. As a hint, you still look like a zombie who woke up covered in acne. You're not fooling anyone.

But I'm pretty sure if you swing by the camp store, you can find some special shampoo for your thinning hair. Just don't wash it too much-your brush might catch too much as a result of your shedding.

[boxbythebed]

Wow, you sure got me there. I've got bad skin, bad hair, and I'm still better looking than you. Nice zinger.

[burgercraving]

You look like you're dying. The only way anyone would find you more attractive right now is because you've got one foot in the ground. Seriously, I might have to wear my yoga pants once a month because things get a little warped where it counts, but you've got a serious problem.

[boxbythebed]

And you're delusional.

[burgercraving]

I'm pretty sure the only reason someone would hook up with you right now is if he's feeling bad for you, he's desperate, or he's on some self-righteous crusade to make someone feel pretty right before she starts decomposing. Some winner you must have there.

[boxbythebed]

I hope you fucking choke on all the nuts you're storing in your cheeks.