Hammers fall on all the pieces...

Good morning, Mr. WWW.
It is 8.47am. It's a Saturday morning, but it feels like a Sunday. I have to finish off my homework, but sod it, I would stop half way through a snog with Colin Farrell to blog. Hang on, I just lied. Sorry, but can you truly blame me? AAAAnyway, yesterday was fun. Made cookie monster cupcakes which were big hit. Nomnomnom. They were slightly more lilac than blue because I ran out of food colouring but meh. I forced Jemma and Ashling into going. They went but moped around all emo. You know how ironic it is to go 'I'm bored' in a room full of people? I bet those African children never say that (>.>). Over on Naomi's site, she posted Harry Potter when all the parts that said wand were now changed to willy. I swear I basically PMSL. It was taken from Facebook, the land of Pirate English and those weird secret quiz things that everyone answers a little toooo truthfully and then you pay your 50 coins and read their answers and it's like... 'Ehm, thanks, I'ma Go Die.' ( Harry Potter's Wand/Willy )







Got a snog last night. T'woo T'woo. Second year, but oh well. And then there was something that someone should've told me considering that someone told me something they should've told me last weekend. I feel so betrayed or something when people do that. And the topic itself upset me. Ahhh. This all sucks. Sad face. Ever get that feeling of nausea when you think of something that
upset you? When I went home, I felt like I needed to puke all over the place. I still do. And it's not like a stomach bug or anything, I know for a fact it's because of the thing. 'You treat me just like another stranger'; Speaking of Paramore, next Saturday at the o2. Something to look forward to and something to distract me and Missa. And then it's Christmas tests, then Mocks, then Junior Cert, then Christmas tests again, then Summer tests, then Christmas tests then Mocks then Leaving Cert, then college, then family then dead. Holy shit, my days are numbered at 14.







I walked around that room, smelling musky like stale B.O. and salt, the wooden floors spreading the expanse. The barred windows remarkably like a prison, the poker table set up. The stacks at the back like warehouse stock. But it's the people who catch my eye. They're all the same. The wemos with their weird hair and try-too-hard make-up, in stripey clothes and fat skinny jeans. The wannabes in their jeans, uggs and long sleeved tops, occasionally topped off with a scarf of some sort. The Guitar Dorks jamming away in the dark corner, wearing leather jackets or dress shirts. There are the people that nobody can name, in their normal clothes or Criminal Damage hoodies (at least the Dunnes Stores version). And then there's me, Jemma, Ashling and the rest of the guys. Guys don't tend to bunch off as much; It must be like 'Yo, you have a penis too!' and then they're all happy clappy no bitch zone. I was wearing my white t-shirt, my black high waisted puffball skirt with the white polkadots, my honey-coloured tights, my black patent heels. Jemma was wearing her signature emo hoodie-and-jeans combo. Ashling in her normal people clothes. Both still look better than everyone at youth club. It's as if they don't even try. I love you guys.




(I usually hate Trashley and Hairy-Kate but I like this pic. :P)



On a little social note, Gino is king of the Jungle! I would've preferred Justin to win but he was gone and damn, Gino D'accampo is like 'TAP THAT ALL OVER THE FLO'. Yayyy, Gino. I'd also like to thank someone this week, and she has already mentioned me in her latest blog but anyway....
Ahem...
I would like to thank Merissa George Genesis Cullen for being here for me. The phone calls, the movie days, the lesbian sex good clean fun. You have to be the best friend anyone could have. Beautiful, kind, funny, a listener and a talker. You are awesome-squared. I love chuuu, babes. Seal for Christmas, but we'll get a muzzle so it doesn't eat Tesco. Lulz.

Testing..
Major Tom,
Over and out.
LUCY
XX
(comment pleeease)