I should be going to bed, but it would be pointless as I won't sleep. I hate lying in bed with no sleep in me.
So, instead, dear reader, I'm going to bitch about someone. I'm going to say her, that might mean her or she in the gay way, or it might mean a lady - or neither. I'm not saying. I'm also not saying if she reads this blog or not. I'm not saying if she has a blog or not. But what I am saying is this:
You're a conceited bitch. You're a prima-donna. You love the fact that people suck up to you. They are careful with your heart and yet you are careless with theirs.
You don't wash your hair often enough. You don't know how to apply eye make-up.
You're condescending and patronising. You think you're doing me a favour by even communicating with me. Well, honey, I'm the one doing you the favour in allowing you to communicate with me. I should tell you where to get off, but, unlike you, I'm too polite.
You get off on people feeling sorry for you. You live on pity. For the love of Jesus, do you think you're the only one who's had it bad? Have you ever thought about anyone else's emotions, thoughts, hopes, fears or feelings?
And don't tell me to look after your friends when you're away. They are quite capable of looking after themselves. And don't imply you're looking after them just now. You can't even look after yourself. If anyone wants or needs to be looked after, I'll know it or they'll ask. You'd be better off, going home, throwing out all your dowdy clothes, washing yourself, washing your filthy hair and getting a good hair cut. When you've done all that, clean up your abode. Clean the floors, throw out all the junk you've scattered across the floor, vacuum the carpets, clean out your kitchen cabinets, change your bedding and then go and wash your face and hands again. Oh, and invest in some antiperspirant: you stink.