And your unmatched taste in people to care for continues to serve you so well, Elisa.
You make me sick.
People "love" you?
Love you?
You who abandons people and breaks promises?
You who doesn't even believe you deserve notice, much less love?
Oh yes, I remember those talks, Elisa.
What did you do to make dear Michael slip?
Why was 'he' thanking you, darling?
Oh, I imagine you'll say it's none of my business, of course.
But you've stopped replying to my emails, and I just had to check on you.
After all, I'm your responsibility, right?
Ha.
If that's what makes you feel like you're any better than me or anyone else.
Oh, and Tia?
That post was fucking saccharine.
Not your drunk little fuck-up, but that was amusing in itself.
As was the thought of the two of you mugging someone.
Don't worry, Blake, I feel sure things are going to be just dandy.
You're right. It's none of your business.
ReplyDeleteAnd better? Better?! Ha. You're more deluded than I thought. I'm sorry, honey. I really am. I shouldn't even think that. I should have...
If anyone needs me today, I'm in my room, probably. This... I feel sick.
As you like to say, Elisa:
ReplyDelete"Nobody cares about an artist until they're mad, dead, or both"
I'm just helping, right?
Hee.
Hello there blue-text, you know this is really just godawful work. Because if you're trying to be actually harmful? You're doing a pathetic fucking job. Kindly find something more useful to do with your time and go hang yourself. I'll even lend you some rope and stepladder. Or... wait, you'd have trouble with the ladder, wouldn't you :)
ReplyDeleteWho says I'm trying to harm today, hm?
ReplyDeleteJust providing a little color commentary.
Call me the peanut gallery if you must.
After all, it's not as though I have much better to do with my time than to be a one-girl attempt at Statler and Waldorf, only less funny.
Must be the medication.
And sometimes it's not about harm, darling.
Sometimes it's about guilt.
You must have noticed how much of that the lovely Elisa carries on herself.
Everyone's problems become her guilt.
Sweet, isn't it?
Why harm her, when she'll harm herself, even with my saying this?
And as to that last, ooh, ah, I cringe at your middle-school level attempt to make fun of a physical limitation.
She was never yours or his, sweetie.
I was just trying to be polite about the disability, blue-text. And you know how that guilt does harm dear Lissie.
ReplyDeleteHello Lis! :)
... really?
ReplyDeleteThis isn't funny.
This isn't even very good, as far as taunting goes.
I've seen tons of people like you. People who turn into this.
They don't live for very long.
Keep that in mind.
Feel free to correct people Ricky.
ReplyDelete"Michael": Just as well as you do, darling.
ReplyDeleteAs to living long, what do I have?
One usable arm, an electric wheelchair, and rare moments of near-lucidity in between everything else?
Even that is better than some options, I suppose.
Yeah? Well...You're STUPID!
ReplyDeleteoh I went there
...
ReplyDeleteWhat.
What Konaa said. With an added bonus of, 'you're a bitch' from me for good measure.
ReplyDeleteYes Darling, thank you for pointing out my flaws: both my over optimism and my self-medicating. So sweet of you to notice.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, people love Lissie. I'm going to go and make sure she knows that right now.
Yes. We all love the Lis. Fuck off, you're nothing but a bitter twat.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry.
ReplyDeleteNot to you.
Or you.
Or you.
Or you.
Or you.
Lis.
It hurts.
They're coming back.
bbye byw