Whores and Horseshoes.

Dramawhores.
I know so bloody motherfucking goddamn cock ass bitch ass fuck face many of them.
They come in dozens, like 'Plastic Bitch Action Figure, get her while her pussy's tight'.
I'm likeee... ch'yeaah, okay, walk away.
Arms around my neck and a knife in my back.

Welllll, apologize profoundly for not posting. I went to Wexforddddd, Irish countryside. Filled with tourists of all shapes and sizes.... mostly round and short though. And burnt. It wasn't terrible, but I truly didn't enjoy myself. There was this hot french/canadian/south african boy and he was all eyes for me. Dreamy, smokey eyes. And his hair was like dirty blonde and sand coloured, like he was blessed and made for me or something. Tall, skinny, with tan shorts and surfer t-shirt, pair of scuffed up vans. I really wish I coulda had a chance, but he had left by the next day and there went the highlight of my holiday. Betcha his name was poetic and sexual like... Pierre or...Gaston. Or maybe it was Peter or something. Hopefully not, that would ruin his sophisticool air. Everyday, my sister demanded beach. As you all know, I'm major freak infinitely. But I also hate beaches with a bubbling, searing passion. The gritty feeling of sand in your toes and panties. And your hair. And every other major boy entrancing body part. And then the smell of rotting carcass and the wind wrecking my hair and the fat lobster women parading around in skin tight bikinis that cut into their fat rolls and muffin tops. It's not an attractive past time imho, but then again, not much is. I missed my friends way too much too. I really can't live without them. Like, I was going stir crazy thinking that gossip was whistling behind my back. Like whistling like a whistling thing on a whistle boat.

Ahaaa, the final Georgia Nicolson chronicle diary thing is out. Hence my version of L33T Speakz. Aka...... retardlanguage2.0. I was like OMFGZZ noes. Because I wanted the series to go on foreverest and infinity and beyond so I would be a mumsie type person and pop to the bookshop to the teenage/young adult section and go 'Ooh looky, "That's when he said my thong was showing...' is out.' I'd be filled with immaturiosity as I walked to the counter and then pick up a Hello Kitty notebook and strawberry scented pen and then write notes about the book as I read it and be all like' Oh, fresh giddy joy, I remember my teenhood and the stoner friends and the underwire and the bubblegum lipgloss and all the male friends that I ended it up going out with...' and then my kids would be like..'OMFGZ cyberspaz attack. Look at mum's meltdown, she's like trippin' hxc to the unck unck beat.' That's my impression of Robo-Juno future slang. I think I didn't do that bad a job. Anyhoo, I finished the book in like 3 hours, because I took a break and gulped down like four cidonas halfway through. It was good and I'm not gonna put any spoilers because anyone who has read to the last book will know that it's kinda fucking obvious who she ends up with anyway and it's not italian bloke, for you bimbos.

Lady Gawgaw.
Well yeah, some peeps are making me Nervy B.
So I'mma go. Short post.
I am really sorry.
Well, peace out, girl scout.
MWAH MWAH
LUCY
XOXO