Since you were apparently a “model,” I’ll take my personal fashion blog to address an open letter to your crazy ass. I just watched the last episode of The Real Housewives of New York City. Have you completely lost your ‘effing mind?! You are absolutely batshit crazy on parallel with Bozo and Charles Manson. You keep referencing 1979 with love, feelings, and emotions. Wackadoo, you have completely lost me.
I feel there is a dark, empty hole eating away at what brains you might possess. You majored in English and I see an excelled vocabulary, albeit mixed in with childish terminology, yet you aren’t quite there in picking up simple sarcasm and jokes. I’m sure Shakespeare wasn’t your literature of choice. Seriously, what is it with you in consistently naming a situation as “creepy?” I haven’t seen one of them being so, except for your demeanor in those situations.
I had a good laugh at you saying Bethenny is out to kill you, and it seems you truly think she will murder you, but don’t you think that’s an over-dramatization of the situation. Bethenny is my home girl and I feel we would be bff’s and do some damage together across the town, but let’s be honest, why would she need to trash you in the media? You ruin yourself just by being you. I’m sure there is medication for your type of craziness…probably not, though. You always feel like someone is attacking you, but they only bring it to you when you make some smart-ass, clueless remark about something you feel, and that is unnecessary and unwanted.
I don’t really know how to conclude this, because I could forever chat about what silliness is leaking from your brain. As Bethenny puts it, you’re a cock-a-doodle-doo. Keep on being you, because I’m sure you’ll never change, kitten.
It’s called a ponytail, a hair band, a barrette, a headband, something. You’re always pulling and tugging on the front of your locks. You know what I’m talking about. You’re going to go bald from all of that stress to your hair, not to mention I can just imagine how much oil builds up from you touching it, you loon.