Complaints Typed for the CyberWorld

Hello mes amis et mes amies at mes autres et mon chien, ou ma chienne.

So let's get to the blogging, even though i should be studying for freakn' English.

Do you ever have the feeling to write 'WHAT?!' or 'LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU UNINTELLECTUAL HUMANS!!!' on a brick wall so that everyone could just shut the hell up and stop bothering you?

Hmm. I don't think I have. The only way I can relate to that, shall I type, complaint, is by the shut the hell up [you unintellectual humans] part. You see, my dear amis et amies et mes autres et mon chien ou ma chienne, I've been quite bothered this week. True or false: is it exam week(s)? True. Are there culminating tasks? True. Are there EQUAO? True. Are there exam reviews, and exam studying? True.

Then answer this: Why the heavens is everyone fighting in my house, and I still 'need' to clean up my room. I hate my Step Father (yet I'm not sure why I capitlaized his title; he's no more than a twig an the ground that you step on and then want to douce in kerosene, and burn it for the pain it causes). Why cannot -he- understand this? Cannot he tell that I obviously hate him?

Either he shuts up, doesn't walk infront of me or around me, or I'll burst this bubble Man!... Dont make any noise. Don't breathe loud enough that i can hear you. Infact dont breathe at all. Don't ask me stupid questions with your dirty mouth. Seriously, it stinks. (I could, but find it too rude to mention his disgusting dental problems. Just imagine what comes out of a mouth not brushed for a lifetime. Now stop imagining about him. You've gone too far!)

Another problem, mes amis et amies et mes autres et mon chien ou ma chienne, is that he's simply dirty. [puke] And stinks. He should take a shower before he walks in my presence. The problem with that, mes peuples, is that I dont want him showering in the shower I use. [puke].

Ahhh, G., what kind of suffering you dare to put me through.

Well, I can bravely [coke] say I've typed, for the first time, of my problems-of-the-household. I know you must not enjoy this, but I enjoy putting him down. Actually, I probably don't. I still have that Jesus morality stuck in me. I'm not so cruel. But if I may use a gardening similie, then I'd mention that -he- is the biggest weed growing out of the damned soil he infects. I like my revenge, of likening him to the lowest of the hindu reincarnatable creatures! Of the lowest point in this universe.

And I will pay in hell for it - catholiqueness of myself.

Phillip. Ciao.

(P.S. If I die, don't tell me family about this blog. They'd kill me. This is between me, you, and mes amis et mes amies et mes autres et mon chien et ma chienne.)