To set the record straight.

This blog is not to be funny, I don't have anything comical to say.

This blog is to set the record straight.

For those of you who think I'm a good person,

I'm not. I'm a shitty person. I take everything good that is given to me and break it, just because.

If people love me, I make them prove it by testing them in the worst ways. And I get upset when they can't handle me anymore, because I've hurt them too much.

I tell myself that in time I'll be a better person. But it never works out.

I don't know why. Maybe its because I've been hurt by my family too much, and I don't know how to be a good person?

Maybe.

But is that an excuse?

Of course not.

So, I am sorry. For those of you that are my friend, I am sorry.

To Kathleen, Gracie, and Molly.

Thank you for being there for me, I dont deserve your friendship and I am continuously shocked that you want me for a friend.

To Dylan.

I've said all that I can, and I'm sorry. I hope we can be friends eventually, even though I don't deserve your friendship, and I haven't even deserved your love for all of these years.

I'm so sorry.

To All of those El Segundians that hate me.

Even if your reason isnt too great, I'm sorry that I've insulted you all so many times. You don't deserve it.

But mostly I'm sorry to Dylan. If he even reads this. I'm making it public, so hopefully he'll realize I value his opinion over the general publics'.

I'm an awful person. I don't deserve anyones' "Its going to get better"s or their "You dont deserve this"s. Because I do. I'm officially at rock bottom, and I'm miserable.

So if you hate me and have been dying to point at me, call me a whore, and laugh, now is the time. I have nothing to defend myself with.

Love.

I really hope that you know how much I hate serious blogs.

They usually end up sounding pretentious, or pathetic, or just plain REALLY FUCKING BORING.

And I don't want my blog to be like that.

However.

I'm sitting on the brown leather couch in my living room, wearing my navy blue romper with legs and gold buttons, and my copper wedges that I bought just to go with it, and I just finished watching 500 Days of Summer.

I'm not really sure if I liked all of it or not.

I loved the guy, and I wish i was as strong as Summer, but it made me sad.

For more than one reason.

I shall list the reasons right now.

1. Guys like that, do not exist.

What a sad fact it is.

But I have a boyfriend whom I am very in love with,

and I really doubt that he thinks of me as his true love.

Even if sometimes I think he could be mine.

2. If they do exist, why do they have to fall in love

with girls too strong to fall in love with them?

DAS BULLSHIT.

So it was only two reasons, but I thought I had more to begin with.

This blog really isnt about that movie though, its really about love.

What if there are certain people that only fall in love once, early in their life?

What if there are certain people who never fall in love at all?

What if there are certain people who MISS their opportunity of falling in love?

That's gotta be a good 75% of the population.

Ridiculous.

I don't even know what I'm trying to say here.

I guess I'm just freaking out because I think I'm going to die alone, unloved, my only happiness being the love that I am currently in.

And that love will most definitely be lost, because of college, and life, and whatnot.

What if I never find it again? Not with Dylan, or anyone?

But what if that's what I deserve?

My kidden.

I have a kidden. Her name is Bananas.

She is that fattest monster of a cat that anyone will ever see ever.

AND I WUV HER!

She just lays there all day, like a sack of purring strawberries, being all cute and lovely and stuff with her little paws and her little face and her little eyes and she just stretched aaawwwwwwww.

I fucking love my cat.

Evil Kittens.

A few days ago, after walking Dylan home, I was strolling along PCH with my stylin' new coat on, when I saw a little lump on the sidewalk.

(When I saw said lump, I was by the windmill across from McDonalds.)

Upon moving closer, the little lump meowed and ran away from me!

Well I was stunned. I mean I really hate humans, but I really adore cute little fuzzy aminals like kittens, snakes, fancy Russian dwarf hamsters, and the like.

Of course my maternal instincts kicked in. Ew.

I saw where the kitty had run,

[Oh, and Btdubbs. This wasn't a huge old fat cat, he seemed to be about a month old]

and I followed him. He was meowing really fucking loud, like he was dying or something. But, as soon as I walked towards him, he ran away. Little bitch. I told him to stay, and went into Ralphs

(conveniently placed a few short steps away) and purchased some kitty tuna for liiiike 78 cents. Good pricing, since I only had a dollar.

I returned to Bitchy Kitty, and offered him the tuna. He ran away again.

Stupid fucker.

It was by this point that i really wanted to just save this fucking cat so I could go home, because it was twelve in the morning.

But kitty couldn't go easy on me. So he ran into a huge bush. A fucking BUSH. After trying to coax him out for about thirty minutes, a taxi driver pulled up and offered me a ride home. I said no, since I had no money and was trying to save this kitten. (sounds heroic, I know.) The nice man said that money was slow this time of night, so he'd love t0 help me find the kitten. (he was a great dude.)

Taxi dude found me a large stick, i put tuna on it, and we tried to get kitty out for another fucking hour. At 1:30 in the morning he had to go pick up a client, so I was left to fend for myself. He was nice though. Kitty ran even farther away into a sidestreet.

I was so fucking fed up by now.

I just sprinted towards this little spit fuck, making him run faster away.

I gave up.

I started to cross the street, got whistled at, screamed Exorcist style at the whistler, and heard (of course) little Cunt Kitty's meow.

I went back across the street to try one last time.

THE CAT WAS UNDER THE FUCKING DUMPSTER.

It was now around 2 o'clock in the FUCKING morning.

Another taxi driver man pulled up (driving a Prius taxi to my surprise) and offered me a ride home. I told him about the evil cat. he tried to help me, but when we finally got the kitty cornered, he hissed at me and bit me. Stupid little fucking piece of shit.

I really gave up.

Prius taxi guy offered to give me a free ride home.

I (gratefully) accepted.

He drove me home, gave me his cards, we shook hands, I found out his name is Fred (the color of a winner, I hope you noticed) and I went inside my apartment.

Exhausted, beaten, scratched, and really pissed off, I realized I had left my new pretty blue flats inside of Fred's car.

ggrrreeeeaaaattttt.

I called him, and he had my shoes so he drove them back to me.

And wouldn't let me give him any money.

Such a cool dude.

Superheroes and Roller Coasters.

I don't like....

Making daily updates, but today was a fantastic day, so I'm letting you all know.

all five of you.

Today I went to Six Flags with one of my best friends, Kathleen Yates. We enjoyed the usual insane roller coasters, waaaaayyyy too expensive food, etc.

{which is funny because there is a restaurant called Food Etc. in Six Flags}

And we saw superheroes.

SUPERHEROES!

Batman and the black Green Lantern, to be exact.

Needless to say, we took pictures with them. Batman had this hilarious like pouty face thing goin' on, but the Green Lantern shook our hands, like a gentleman.

The green lantern was really hot.

He complimented my handshake on its firmness.

It is quite firm.

But I definitely pride myself in my handshake, so he won like 50 Winner points.

(from now on, expect any and all Winner points to be orange.)

Kathleen and I rode like seven roller coasters in 6 hours. Pret-ty impressive.

And we found a lot of ugly and creepy people at Six Flags.

Ew.

Then her brother Sean (notice his name is orange, the color of a winner) picked us up and drove us home and whatever.

I know this whole blog is pointless, I just really wanted to share my handshake story.

Oh by the way. Fucking X2 broke me. That roller coaster is insane.

GAAAAAHHHHHH.

Okay. So tonight, at my lovely friend Ariella's house, I watched the movie Rosemary's Baby.

I HATED it.

I mean really? Her fucking husband lets this satanist dude rape her in her sleep, but only after the husband himself is the biggest asshole ever to his gorgeous wife. THEN HE SELLS HER FUCKING BABY TO SATANISTS SO HE CAN BE FAMOUS.

WHAT THE FUCK.

That is SO not okay. So then pretty lady chops off all her hair, looks sickly for a good portion of the movie, throws young people parties, and lets her husband call her friends a bitch for giving her good advice.

NOT TO MENTION.

She just waltzes into the little Narnia she finds in the closet, accepts tea from that Minnie lady, DOESN'T throw nice Minnie lady's porcelain glass on the floor, and rocks her Satan baby to a peaceful slumber.

Quality flick, eh?

NO. IT WAS NOT.

And to be quite frank, I really don't care if pretty short hair lady gets one THOUSAND Oscars and is super famous for that movie. I hated it.

Just because a movie is "one of the best critically acclaimed movies to grace the planet" doesn't mean I have to like it. Because I didn't.

I am NEVER one to play feminist, but short hair lady just fucking freaks out the whole movie, doesn't take control of her own fucking prengnancy, and lets all these old guys push her around!

GROW SOME BALLS, SHORT HAIR LADY!

I fucking hated that movie.

Bullshit in black and white.

I stumbled upon this. Everything is exactly what it said until I come in. Yay for intrusion!

Her: I like someone

Him: Who?

Her: Wait wait, I love someone.

Him: Can you tell me who?

Her: Yeah, but you can't laugh.

Him: Okay, I won't. Just tell me.

Her: It starts with "y", and ends with "u"

Him: I like that person too.

Me: Go fuck yourselves, you're both going to die alone anyway.

Her: Who are you?!

Me: I'm god.

Him: No you're not, God's a dude.

Me: So now you're sexist? Great. You're not only lying to this pathetic girl, but you're sexist as well. Great.

Her: He is neither! I love him and he loves me.

Him: .....yeah.

Me: Well. *awkward cough* there you go.

THE END!!!

Good example of why I love my boyfriend.

So. Dylan, my boyfriend, is such for many reasons:

1. I like his hair.

2. He puts up with me.

3. He can cook. Well.

4. He puts up with me.

5. He is well read and smart.

6. He is a pretty rad movie critic.

7. He has good music taste.

8. He puts up with me.

here is a good example of him putting up with me. About five minutes I was going on a rant because Dylan knew I was furious so he let me rant to him. Great guy.

WARNING: EXCESSIVE SWEARING, UPSETNESS, TEEN ANGST, AND 8,000 EMOTIONS AT ONCE ENSUING. PLEASE DONT BE OFFENDED.

Me

im really hurt about it

10:49pmDylan

im sorry baby

10:52pmMe

yeah.

10:52pmDylan

i love you!

10:53pmMe

love you too

10:57pmDylan

yay!

10:58pmMe

yup

11:00pmDylan

whats wrong

rant

11:02pmMe

im just so fucking pissed!

im never going back there agian

theyre all awful human beings nd theyre all worthlees fuckers and i hope they all fucking kill themselves.

11:06pmDylan

well your worth alot!

like bazillions

11:07pmMe

FUCKING EXACTLY

AND THESE STUPID SHITFUCKS DONT REALIZE IT AND I HATE ALL OF THEM

11:12pmDylan

BAZILLIONS

11:13pmMe

lol i love you so much

11:15pmDylan

yay!!

such a rad boyfriend.

Three Wishes.

Everyone knows about the genie in the bottle thing. But what would you actually wish for if you were blessed with this blue guy who gives you three of whatever you want?

Let's set up some ground rules, crediting Disney's Aladdin.

In case you grew up underground or don't have ears or eyes so you've never seen it, I'll just remind you of the rules:

1. No dead people back to life. Sorry Elvis, just keep eating those fried sandwich things.

2. No making people fall in love with you. (don't worry Bieber, I can win you on my own...)

3. No killing people. Its okay, I'll kill them on my own.

ANYWAY.

This is what I'd wish for.

1. Ten million dollars.

I really need the money.

10 million would take care of not only everything

I'd ever need, but the rest of my family with tons leftover

for charities, every lacy bra ever, and a tiger (at the least) for me.

2. A never expiring pass to Disneyland/CA Adventure.

I absolutely fucking adore the Disneyland Parks.

Like seriously, I would go there everyday

Just to talk to new people and sit at the tables and watch

the day go by. Its so nice there, and just walking through

the gates is just the happiest place ever.

Not to gush or anything.

3. The ability to read people into and out of books.

If you don't know me, then this will come as a surprise.

I fucking love the Harry Potter books.

With all of my heart.

And not just those, but really good books in general.

One of the times I cried hardest in my life was

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!

when Dumbledore died in the 6th book.

It goes without saying, I just wanna talk to these people.

And force them to be my best friends.

THERE YOU GO!

I thought really hard about these answers.

Really hard.

So all 5 of you that follow this blog currently, what would you wish for?

A pony?

A unicorn?

Cocaine?

Dead monkeys?

THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS!

By the way, I fucking hate Justin Bieber. I was kidding. He can die alone. In a pit of ravenous sea turtles.

HAPPIER SUBJECT.

The suicide post made me sad. So I'm gunna make up for it by saying fuck a lot and insulting ugly babies!

And yes, I will forever right suicide in this color.

BACK TO THE TOPPPPPIIICCCCC

Today me and my super radical black friend were talking (no, I'm not racist, but there are so few racial people here that I feel I should highlight them so they don't have to feel caucasion.) And before my radical friend, this super stellar chick and I thought it up on the fourth of July. Like, what if people used ridiculous insults instead of ones supposed to hit home? Insults like:

GO CLIMB A TREE YOU WHORE!

What would anyone even say to that?

"no.. you..."

I put it in blue to symbolize failure. And orange to symbolize EPIC WIN.

Like what is up with all of this name calling, mother insulting, madness? I mean sure, I like to tell random citizens to kill themselves or remind my friend that I fucked his mother last night, but at some point we need to be original.

And what better way to be original than to point out the obvious?

Like be intense about it too.

You can't just limply throw out an obvious insult. You have to say it like you're insulting with a big one, one that'd make Barack Obama cry. Head wobbling, fingers snapping, voice rising, you get it.

Here, lemme give you some examples, all in orange (a warm victory color):

GO KISS A BABY YOU FUCKER!

GO PUT ON SOCKS YOUR WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!

EAT A LUNCHABLE YOU ANOREXIC ANIMAL CRACKER WHORE!

GO LIGHT A CANDLE YOU FAT FUCK!

Just to name a few.

I know, I know. I am the biggest threaten-er of baby stabbing, knife throwing, go kill yourself-ers that might have ever existed. But sometimes theres nothing like making the person you're trying to own just go:

"...wait.. what?"

Which gives you the liberty to say:

THATS RIGHT, SUCK MY MOTHERFUCKING DICK!

And it does help to swear a lot and use wild hand gestures while screaming, but you know.

Argument won.

Serious time.

I know I joke about a lot of things, and make fun of a LOT of people. But this is a serious issue, and I really want to express what I feel about it.

Get ready, the word is scary, so I'm putting it in a less threatening color:

Suicide.

Alright. Now don't freak out on me for thinking this, I am very much entitled to my own opinion.

Here we go.

Suicide. Fuck its a scary thing. To think, the amount of courage someone needs to actually pull the trigger, or knowingly take the pills, or kick away that little stool.

But is it courage? Really? Because I think its more like very strong cowardice, selfishness, and a pinch of crazy.

Think about it people: Everyone has someone, some animal, maybe even a pet rock that cares for their existence.

EVEN HOLDEN CAULIFIELD had Phoebe! And that dude is really hard to like.

Now think right now, if YOU killed yourself right now. Yes, you. I'm pointing at you right now, turn around.

Hahahaha.. just kidding I'm not.

But seriously, think about it. Think what would happen if you pulled the trigger right NOW.

Who would be affected?

Now let's set up some different scenarios here:

You pull the trigger. Your mom comes into your bedroom later to check on you now that she's home from work, since your her baby and she loves you so much. Not to mention, you didn't answer when she knocked. She sees you, and just falls. Like her knees gave out, and she has no strength left to do anything but cry. Weakly, she moves herself to your head. Holds it in her hands, stroking your hair and sobbing.

Wow. I don't even want to talk about that one anymore.

But what if you don't live with your mom, or this is unrealistic for you? Let's try again.

You swallow every last pill. Your little sister, only a few years younger than you (lets say four years younger) realizes you haven't talked to her since you got home from school and is worried already. She's noticed you shrinking into yourself lately, more so than you usually are. When Mommy and Daddy were fighting last night she came into your room because she was scared, and you just told her to ignore it and go to bed when usually you would have helped her believe everything would be okay. She presses a little ear to your door and hears nothing, her little heart beats harder. She opens the door slowly, in case your doing something quiet so you have time to tell her to close the door, and sees you lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling. Unseeingly. She calls out your name, no response. She walks over to you and takes your hand. Its cold. She looks into your eyes and sees vacancy. Her heart breaks visibly as tears roll down her cheeks, and she closes your eyes with her fingertips, always more mature than she should have to be, always making sure you were okay as long as herself.

Sorry, that one was more detailed. But I have a little sister. And while "mommy and daddy" don't fight since my dad left, I have to take care of my sister almost like a daughter.

But just think. Even if you can't relate to either scenario, imagine your dog without you. Your cat, even your fish or snake or hamster or something.

Why would you want to hurt any of them, unless you were too terrified to realize this time would pass and just to keep your head up, or maybe you wanted them to cry over your cold body?

These people just give up. On everyone.

I don't have anyone close to me that has killed themselves, so I'm not sure my opinion is as heartfelt as it should be, seeing as it is kind of harsh and blameful. But I've seen what suicide has done to others, and its heart breaking.

I'm sorry if you disagree with what I think, but please don't try to tell me off or explain to me why you're right and I'm wrong.

Just take into account my thoughts, maybe you agree.

Yes.

You cannot imagine the immensity of the fuck I do not give.

Pretty much my response to every insult I get on formspring... unless it hits home or something.

(it usually doesnt.)

I mean sure. You are all welcome to attack my formspring, here, I'll even give you the link.

Aren't I generous? www.formspring.me/sawyerfuller

Just rock that shit out.

But the point is, I think it is SO ridiculous to picture some girl that I probably don't like anyway sitting curled up under her cashmere blanket, furiously typing 160 characters or however many are allowed, of BroHo-anger (or jealousy, as I call it) about how much of a cum-guzzling-thunder-cunt I am.

Or maybe how my hair makes my face look fat.

Or how my ass is too big.

Or how my pinky toe looks weird.

Or how they don't like my boyfriend (like I fucking care)

Or how I'm a nosey no-gooder who needs to kill herself.

Or how my cat is too fat.

Or how I should just go jump off of a big tower of ice cream lava into a pit of eels.

Then hitting send with such passion, you would have thought she just pushed the baby dragon that just ate her vagina off of a cliff.

That is a lot of passion.

But the funny part is, all of her hard work just goes to waste because I just laugh, and respond something ridiculous like:

YEAH?! well... well... YOUR MOM.

I always win this crazy formspring game.

The game of life too (both board game and the real kind)

But we'll get to that later.

Best use of my time.

I'm a pretty curious person, one who strives to know as much as she can about what she wants to know about. And I'm not talking about biology, I fucking HATE that subject. I'm talking history, music, guns, people, nerves, etc. So today I stumbled upon some great last words of criminals. I thought I'd share a few, because some of them are sad, but also halarious. ENJOY. Oh yeah, and appreciate my commentary (if I give it.)

You sons of bitches. Give my love to Mother.
Executed in electric chair.
~~ Francis "Two Gun" Crowley, d. 1931

commentary:: the gaurds must have laughed SO hard. how could you NOT give his mother love after that?! i know this isnt a funny comment but i was laughing so hard at this that i just had to express to you the joy it brought me.

I love you.
Spoken to the executioner.
Executed by injection, New York.
~~ Sean Flannagan, d. June 23, 1989

commentary:: mostly chose this because i know a certain Sean Flannagan, and he so would say something like this, because hes one of the funniest people i know. and thats the only reason.

I did not get my Spaghetti-O's, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.
Executed by injection, Oklahoma.
~~ Thomas J. Grasso, d. March 20, 1995

commentary:: poor bastard was jipped of his spaghettios... id want the press to know too.

You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the Grim Reaper.
Executed in California's gas chamber.
~~ Robert Alton Harris, d. April 21, 1992

commentary:: wait... california had a gas chamber?! what the fuck?!

Farewell, my children, forever. I go to your Father.
Executed by guillotine.
Monsieur, I beg your pardon.
Spoken to the executioner, after she stepped on his foot.
~~ Marie Antoinette, Queen of France, d. October 16, 1793

commentary:: fucking love her, and how sweet, i definitely wouldnt apologize. id be like SUCK IT BITCH. i mean hes killing her afterall..

well there you go. there are more, but im kind of done reading them. if you want to read some, go on google or some shit.

How annoyingly sweet I am to my boyfriend..

Me

so i was thinking

9:45pmDylan

yeah

9:45pmMe

just now

like JUST now..

9:46pmDylan

yeah

9:47pmMe

liikkeee JYUUSTTTTT now.

9:48pmDylan

what?!

9:48pmMe

like in a nowish just fashion

about..

9:48pmDylan

fucking tell me

9:49pmMe

how whenever i see you my whole life gets a little better..

9:49pmDylan

aww baby!

one of the sweetest thing ever...

SEE?!?!

How sweet am I.

Today.

Today was a great day.

i woke up, and was bailed on by the girls i was supposed to go shopping with. that sucked. so i tanned (i need it), showered, fed George (my fishie) and tried to figure out what to do.

in the end, i decided to go to target because I wanted to shop. on the way walking there, (i couldnt find a ride) i saw a dead squirrel on the sidewalk next to a bank. i stopped dead, and felt so sorry for the little thing, that my eyes stung.

weird, right? i care so little for so many people, but the sight of a dead rodent on its back just breaks my heart.

i picked 5 yellow flowers and placed them around the body. i said a few words, wishing the little one luck in the afterworld, and i had a moment of silence before i continued walking.

struttin' my stuff, i finally got to target (sweating up a storm of course, it was fucking hot today.) and strolled inside. after buying a few things and smiling at everyone i saw just because i felt like it, i started to make my journey home.

i walked past a car full of men, all looking happy about wherever they were going, or maybe they were just having fun together or laughing at some innapropriate joke. they were guys, afterall. so i smiled at them, because, why not? they were happy, why cold shoulder happiness? they all kind of looked at me when i smiled, but they were stopped at the intersection stop light, so i just kept walking. when it was their turn to go, they drove past and all yelled at me "YOU'RE SO BEAUTIFUL!".

usually, guys just honk or whistle. i mean really, do they think im gunna tell them to whip it out and take me there? dumbasses. but thats not the point. the point is, beautiful is such a nice word. im pretty sure i glowed the whole walk home, just because those nice men pointed out to me that i am beautiful.

wherever you all are, thank you. you made my day.

the rest of my day was great too, but i enjoyed it all by myself (for the most part). i really needed that day. the day was beautiful and sunny, and i thank the universe for giving it to me.

I LOVE MYSELF.

I love myself. A lot. Because I am:

Insane

Emotional

Angry

Seemingly Invincible

Hot. (you can disagree, but I have bomb cheekbones and a great ass.)

Brave

Proud

Strong.

you see, some people hate adolescence. but i fucking love it. people cant touch me, im so angry and i just dont care what others think. i run on the beach every other day to scream at the water:

TRY TO TOUCH ME YOU COCKSUCKING SHITS! YOU CANT DO GET TO ME! SUCK MY DICK!

its absolutely fantastic.

and shit, i know im not invincible. i know that people can do shit to me. people are doing shit to me now. but the point is, im me, i dont plan on changing.

im not a slut, im definitely a flirt, i think what i want, i say what i think, and i dress how i feel.

and purple is my favorite color.

She.

She gets off the phone, crying because he's mad at her.

She walks to the refrigerator, opens it, then closes it realizing there is nothing to eat.

She lies down on the floor, the music she's playing is a mixed CD from him.

She only cries harder.

She looks up to see her mom come in the door.

She sees her mom crying, another lover lost.

She walks to her room as her mom calls the one most recently lost.

She tries to block out the sound of her mom screaming.

She thanks God or whoever is laughing at her up there that her little sister isn't home to see this.

She cringes as her mom throws something breakable against the wall.

She only cries harder.

She remembers him cheating on her.

She only cries harder.

She can't think of the last time her dad said he loved her.

She only cries harder.

She hears another glass shatter.

She cries herself to sleep.