...you write such pretty words...

Gyaaaaahh.

That was the sound of someone really really frustrated. Who wrote the memo that every self-esteem lacking miscreant gets to walk all over me in an attempt to temporarily inflate their otherwise flaccid existence (and yes, that was a penis metaphor)?

This isn't me being a bitch. Rather, this isn't me being just a bitch. This is me being tired and really not wanting to pamper any undeserving egos today, thanks. But if that changes anytime soon, I'll let you know.

Oh, go cry about it. Better yet, go die and please don't make a mess. Crying wil just annoy the neighbours, and why should they suffer?