Intrusion!!!

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Steph gets physicscal

So I come over for Ili's thirteenth birthday, and of course I'm the highlight of the party. I breeze in effortlessly and hand the birthday girl exactly what she wanted. Everyone ohed and ahed when she opened her gift and saw the most exquisite pair of socks that they have ever seen. You see... people love me so much; I come over for their birthday, and they give me gifts (not this time, apparently the entire Centeno family didn't get the memo, whatever I didn't want dehydrated black beans anyway). That's what I bring to the party... eff that I am the party. BUT out of the corner of my eye, in the perfect literary contrast, there Steph sits with her dark hair, dark stained lips, and dark glowering eyes. Brooding. Bringing me down on Ili's day. This was sure to be a momentous occasion :/ It hits me that I've never seen this side of Steph before, sure she's annoying and intrusive and she wears odd clothes that always look AMAZING, but this was different. This was a whole other monster.... the homework monster, and for the first time I had caught her in her most natural habitat, hunched over a physics book, pulling out her hair. I tried to be entertaining, and charming but she was attentive and studious. I tried drama and gossip, but she was nerdy and boring. Had she really been doing homework all this time, or was this a REALLY extravagant lie. I was at a loss for words... Physics? Really? Is it possible that I have become the bestfriend worthy of a "YOU SUCK" blog? Had I really become less entertaining than the study of the motion of matter? Hey Steph, study me, I can jump... how high?

FAIR!!!!!! sux

So my dearest Steph says "Hey come to the fair", so I think, like anyone would, that this is going to be a night full of wonder and enchantment. Bright lights and fun rides. WRONG. I can't believe I spent 20 AMERICAN dollars on this crap. First, Steph's little sister and I decided to go into the mad house, which I suppose they took literally because all it really did was piss me off. 12 mirrors and a slide, that I almost lost Steph's youngest sister on forever. We took a walk around to see the games, which there were plenty more of than anything else. Game booths terrified me, everywhere I turned some freightening, toothless mutant demanded that I play for the same three styles of stuffed animals that they've had there since I was eight. I think that when they were looking for extras for "The Hills Have Eyes" they must have scavenged the Iredell County Fair, hoping they could save money on horror make-up. THEN I almost died on the one ride I was brave enough to go on. IT was fashioned out of some sort of hydraulic truck trailer, with rickety carts darting radially out from the three inch diameter pole. Let me explain that this ride seemed innocent enough. It was a cute little ferris wheel, slowly being loaded up, sure to be a joyous experience, right? NO. This was a whirwinded death machine. A cyclone of terror, ran by inbred carnies who may or may not have been convicted sex offenders, I can't be sure. After stifling my vomit *huagh... HUAGH*, I go to hunt for food, and we find this cute little camper advertised to sell fried chicken, fish, and I'm sure greens and watermelon if you catch my drift. This was the BEST part of the trip because not only was Steph mistaken for a "white girl" (this makes me trully happy because I always wonder what people will think about me walkin around with a bunch of half-breed beaners) but also this was some bonafied after-church, family 'union chicken. I was in love. The rest of the night included a sweet young man with down syndrome (or at least he had really small eyes, and I imagine a really large swollen tongue, because home boy was tone-def) singing "Keep on Rocking in the Free World", over and over and over again. You know what, I take back what I said about him having down syndrome, had he been I would have been much more entertained, and less likely to hate him for introducing me to what has to be the WORST song in "the Free World". Hey douche bag you may sound awesome at your little sister's fifth birthday party, and you may have over four fans on youtube, but you SUCK. It was like watching The Worst of American Idol Auditions, except instead of everyone singing "You are Beautiful" they all try a hand at this masterpeice, over and over and over again. Then dearest Steph and her two sisters demolished a funnel cake complete with Strawberries and Chocolate (my absolute fav, bitches) and I didn't get not one bite before it was vaporized. Obliterated. Finally it was time to go home... thank God. *Keep on Rocking in the Free Woooorlld* damnit.

You can suck on some homeworking balls!!!!!

Dearest Steph has ofish abondoned my lonely ass. She's always too busy. I invite her to indian buffet (something I know her foreign lovin ass would never turn down unless she really hates my gutz) and she says she can't. I ask her what she was up to last night and she says to me she has to do homework. Who does this girl think she's foolin? Her grandmother?
Stephanie's Grandmother: "Mama why you no come for rice and brue garlis (blue garlic, not food colored)"
Stephanie: "Mommie, I'm just really busy right now"
Stephanie's Grandmother: "You have much homework?"
Stephanie: "Uh... Yeah, that's right too much homework"
Stephanie's Grandmother: "O-o-ahh, MI Steponee, you have homework, you are college gir you finish your homework a-awe I lub you"
Then Stephanie frollics off free to do as she pleases
Well Steph I may not be as wise or venerable as your granny but damnit I went to school with you Steph, that's the dumbest excuse EVER. You never do your homework unless it involves drawing, which always ends up looking more like Hentai than a school project. Probably some old drawings of her and Gay's relations, that she's been meaning to scan and put on her Myspace anyways.
She thinks she's all cool chillin at her new/old job, answering the phone for gays. Where is that gunna get you in life, besides knowing exactly how many slices come in a large pepperoni. Or how about the other lame ass job... at the library. That's right she works at the town of Mooresville's public library. You think you're educating the world. The only reason people really come in there is to look at the internet, and the only reason your there is to make sure they don't watch porn because as we all know... poor people can't be trusted. If she really valued our friendship she would quit her damn jobs, leave school, and be my full time friend.

Hey! Suckballs!

So my besty is a gay and a looz. Her Viking Warrior wanna be boyfriend came back into town... and it's all "Lacey who?" Hey Steph since I know you read this blog... you are the only one who does... why don't you quit suckin on Gaylord's Pokéballs and give me an effin phone call. Damnit. I know you guys are all Animade for each other, but just check up every once in a while.

Too Late to Still Suck

Atttaaaccckkk of the Stiff... So I'm enjoying a nice, relaxing dinner with my parents at O'Charley's... kind of a tradition that we haven't practiced since my youngest sibling turned thirteen. Having four kids all reaching puberty at once made it impossible financially for my parents to take us out to eat unless the restaurant had a "children 12 and under eat free" policy. And since my parents can no longer convince us to con the waiter into believing that, despite our breasts, mustaches, and children, we are in fact 12; we haven't gone out in a while. This meal was kind of a big deal, and of course my dearest friend has the best radar for ruining touching moments. I'm chatting with my parents about how glad I am to be in their company, when I hear "I love it when you call me Big Poppa, throw your hands in the air..." (the ringtone I hear every time she calls. Ugh!) I answer the phone and Steph's Mexican ass barely takes a breath before she tells me that she has discovered this blog. I try to tell her that it's all a joke, and she counters by explaining that she's realized that they are all real scenarios. Kinda makes it difficult to play the whole joke card. Bitch. So she gets off the phone with a casual "Well I'll let you enjoy your food" Click. How did she find it anyway? Did she just go around googling her own name? My name? Yeah well you know what? You can be as mad as you want because I may blog about you but you have cats. Eff that Stiff, you will not make me sit through a whole meal feeling bad, eff that. Actually weirdest part was that she really wasn't even that upset, she almost seemed just excited that someone was writing about her on the internet. I guess she's a no publicity is bad publicity kinda girl. A Lindsay Lohan.











Note: I have brothers and sisters, not boobs AND a mustache.

Still Suckin

So yesterday, I'm at the mall with my greek god of a boyfriend, watching movies and what not, and guess who calls, thats right, the bff&e&e&e&e. She's checkin up on me because her much more brain and much less brawn boyfriend was out of town... I guess this meant that we were supposed to hang out. She whines that we aren't together, and blah blah blah. I ask her, "Why you so obsessed with me? Are you in lo-o-o-ve with me?" Well then we get into the conversation of lesbifriends, which my man happens to overhear, and his wheels and his moods start to turn. I can visibly watch his face rapidly change, from confusion, to realization, to pure joy, and last JEALOUSY. It's official Steph's look are becoming a problem.

First Day of Sucks

So I'm sittin at my nine to five, and Stiff g-messages me, and I don't mean her thug ass texted me from her Boost Mobile either (chirp: the pre-tweet), she sent me some kind of instant message through gmail. I didn't even know you could do that. Are emails not instant enough? And it's not like you can just instant message anyone, it's only gmail account holders. Just effin email them. What disturbs me more is she knew that I was sitting there, logged into my email account, waiting for something more exciting than Netflix account updates to come through. Anyways I tell her I'm at work and that I'm too busy to talk. Which I was busy, busy google mapping all of my friends and families houses, hoping that I would find my car in at least one of the street views. She proceeds to invite herself on a lunch date to my place of business. And what does that ho do... she comes up here takes my money and buys herself some damn tacos from Taco Bell. I mean come on Stiff, you're Mexican for Christ's sake, you should have much better taste in tacos than that.