I'm going up to Bellvue this weekend to hang out with Ryan and his girlfriend Toni. Apparently they are coming down here to pick me up on Saturday and driving me back home on Sunday. It seems like alot of trouble to go through, considering all we ever do together is smoke pot and watch anime. But it'll be nice to get away from Portland and see them both.
I went to Beaverton High School for two years. There was a kid in some of my classes named John Grant. He is the BIGGEST asshole ever, and not in a good way. My first day of my sophmore year he asked me if I'd ever grow any tits, or if I was going to stay a hermaphrodite forever. I told him to go fuck himself. And from then on, he made my life a living hell. He would steal my lunch out of my backpack and spit in it. He teased me mercilessly about being flat-chested. He told me I was the ugliest chick he'd ever seen and I'd be lucky to get laid once. He did some other prety cruel shit too that is far to embarassing to post, but let's just say that I hated this kid. And I blame every self-esteem issue I've had since then on him. It was some traumitizing shit. Granted, I'm a shitload more mature than I was when I was 15 years old, but I still think he's a completely worthless human being who will never make any worthwhile contribution to society. Ever.
Today out of boredom I was flipping through The Oregonian, and in the back pages of the Metro section there's a little blurb about a Beaverton High School Student having a rather severe car accident. Turns out that kid is John Grant. He was super-drunk and rolled his Range Rover at 4 a.m. geting off Highway 26 a few nights ago. He's in fair condition at Good Samaritan. And all I could think was, "GODDAMMIT, WHY DIDN'T THAT ASSHOLE FUCKING DIE?!" And like, I'm pretty dissapointed that he's not at least a permanent vegetable or horribly disfigured.
Does that make me a bad person?
I went to Beaverton High School for two years. There was a kid in some of my classes named John Grant. He is the BIGGEST asshole ever, and not in a good way. My first day of my sophmore year he asked me if I'd ever grow any tits, or if I was going to stay a hermaphrodite forever. I told him to go fuck himself. And from then on, he made my life a living hell. He would steal my lunch out of my backpack and spit in it. He teased me mercilessly about being flat-chested. He told me I was the ugliest chick he'd ever seen and I'd be lucky to get laid once. He did some other prety cruel shit too that is far to embarassing to post, but let's just say that I hated this kid. And I blame every self-esteem issue I've had since then on him. It was some traumitizing shit. Granted, I'm a shitload more mature than I was when I was 15 years old, but I still think he's a completely worthless human being who will never make any worthwhile contribution to society. Ever.
Today out of boredom I was flipping through The Oregonian, and in the back pages of the Metro section there's a little blurb about a Beaverton High School Student having a rather severe car accident. Turns out that kid is John Grant. He was super-drunk and rolled his Range Rover at 4 a.m. geting off Highway 26 a few nights ago. He's in fair condition at Good Samaritan. And all I could think was, "GODDAMMIT, WHY DIDN'T THAT ASSHOLE FUCKING DIE?!" And like, I'm pretty dissapointed that he's not at least a permanent vegetable or horribly disfigured.
Does that make me a bad person?
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No it doesn't make you a bad person.
*smooche*