Ahem.
So Lindsay is alot cooler than I made her out to be.� I didn’t think she was uncool by any means, but she just suprised me, you know?
Sorry, Lindsay, but if I think you’re cool, it’s over.� You probably won’t have any friends after that.
Dr.�Evil does the prologue for CATS.� “Old Deuteronomy will choose the cat to go to the Heavyside LAY- er.” *pinkie to mouth*
LAY- er.
It’s alot funnier with cat makeup on.
Oh, and I’m supposed to mention Caitlin here.� Because she thought it was funny, too.� Everybody wants a piece of my blog.
“Everybody wants a piece.� Of my pumpkin pia.”
- Dan
He added Matthew to his myspace so he could annoy him with his whorishness.� He did.� Matthew DELETED him.
Buuuuhleted.
Diet Coke.� Remember that.� I’d like to say something about that, but I need to finish saying something about Dan.� So… put that on hold, as Prof. West would say.
Dan says gay things:
“Liz, you’re no Trent Reznor.”
“I wish I was Vanessa Carlton.”
And there was something else, and I was like “omg, I’m blogging that” because I’m in highschool and I say things like OMG and guh-ross.� Totally.
“Look, Liz.� Desks, books, bells, friends… these scenerios should be familiar to you.”
- Matt, re: TeenNick
The only actual teenager I know that watches that is Lia.� I only know that because she said soemthing about that show with that kid on it who looks like Dan.� He really does.� I bet he’s Jewish.� Jewish like me.� Apparently.� Get it?
I picked up my photos yesterday.� I got wallets!� *giggle*
Because I giggle alot, too.
Miz Rita, my old vocal coach, who plays Grizabella in CATS, has an orange sparkley bra.� She’s well into her 60s.� Way to go, Miz Rita.� I believe in you.
“I’m late!� Hold the show!”
- Bomballurfuckingrina.
So Diet Coke.� Right.� I’m drinking a diet coke.� A real one, not a generic one.� I usually don’t drink carbonated beverages on days that I have to be in a unitard in front of 360 people, but I just couldn’t resist.� I also I don’t drink carbonated beverages if I’m planning on being in a swimsuit or in my nakiepants in front of people.� Or person.� But I usually don’t worry too much about the nakiepants, because, psht, I’m freaking hot.� Actually, because nakiepants is to be shared with someone you care about, and I’m not saying that if we’re in love, we should all get fat.� That would just be guhross.� I’m just saying that our significant other thinks we look good in our nakiepants no matter what.
Tooshie.
Welp, most people get fat together.� They either get fat or lose weight together.� But most of the time they get fat.� Have you seen that chick and that dude?� They used to be really cute.� Now they’re just fat.� That football player is fat too.� I mean, he’s always had a butt, back when Heather dated him, but bloody hell, he’s a lardass.� He waddles.� Guhross.
Along with diet coke, I also don’t drink milk on days that I have to perform.� Well, on days that I have to sing.� I can drink milk if i have a ballet or something, but milk screws up one’s voice.� Diet coke doesn’t screw up your voice, but it increases the probability that you could burp.� That would be funny.� For me or Sarah.� Because our song is supposed to be all seductive and meeyow.� I should burp tonight in the middle of my gyrations.
Matthew said something last night, and then I made him repeat it, only gyrating his hips.� I don’t remember what it was, though.� It wasn’t “workin’ order”.� *thrusts*
All of the interns are going to elementary schools in the next few days to teach 8th graders CPR and Heimlech Maneuver.� I was by myself.� I had a class of about 30- 40 students.� At the end of the class, I asked if there were any questions.
Boy:� How old are you?
Liz:� 17.
Boy:� Oh, good, you aren’t as old as I thought.� I’m 13.� What’s your phone number?
Liz:� I’m entirely too old for you, and I have a boyfriend.
Boy:� He doesn’t have to know.
I told Ashley, and she said, “I would have given him my number just because he had the balls to ask.”� Poor Ashley.
Matt said I should have given it to him.� “If he actually called, then he’d really have balls.”
And in Beth’s class (which she taught with Hog and only had 18 students.� You do the math.) she told them that when someone is choking, you should give them 5 pelvic thrusts.� That’s a new one to me.� Alot more fun than abdominal thrusts, though.
“And if that diamond ring turns brass, mama’s gonna buy you a piece of ass.”
-� Lindsay.
You wouldn’t think it would be so bad being a prostitute.� You get paid to -get it on-.� But alot of the people who pay to -get it on- are fat and/ or ugly.� Hence their having to pay to -get it on-.
So I ask you this question:� Would you rather -get it on- with someone who is fat, or someone who is ugly?� I’d rather -get it on- with someone who is ugly.� Because I don’t hate ugly people.� But that’s just me.
Oh yeah, and when I ask a question in my blog, I mean for it to be answered in my comments, assholes.� I don’t ask rhetorical questions.� Just hypothetical ones.
Some people, such as my mother (pictured), are incapable of answering hypothetical questions.� “Why?� That can’t happen.”� Ugh.
Holly asked Steve, “If you hadn’t met me, would you date Liz?”
Steve replied, “I don’t know, I’m dating you.”� And he’s intelligent.� But some questions that women ask are better left unanswered.� Prime example:
Shanice’s boyfriend, Josh, went to a mixer.
Shanice:� Did you dance with anyone?
Josh:� No
Shanice:� You’re lying.
Josh:� Okay, I danced with a couple girls.
(Shanice gets pissy and calls Liz the next day)
Liz:� Now Shanice, what if he had told you the truth and said, “yes, I did dance with a few girls.”
Shanice:� I would have gotten pissed off.
So why ask the question.� Does it matter?� No.� It’s dancing.� Most of the men I dance with are gay.� All of the men I dance with are gay.
Except when Matthew does the C… nevermind.
meow meow meow.� meow meow meow.
“We’re about to fucking do CATS.� We’re gonna put some pussy on parade.”
I’m worried about Captain Pete.� His nose is all dry, and he’s being quite sedated lately.� When I pick him up, he bends his side, makes a horrid noise, and scratches me.� I think he broke a rib.� I hope that’s all it is.� Tony broke his rib on Mark Adam’s little sister.
We decided that I’m going to be a myspace whore.� Not like Dan or Davo, but a supermyspace whore, like Tila Tequila or Beetlejuice or FoRbIdDeN.� Then maybe they’ll like me.� And I can have pictures of me kissing girls, or me with leaves on my boobs, or me biting my lip, or me with my boobs pressed against the floor.� That’s a superb way to get back into the modelling profession.� That’s the -only- way.� Besides to be on America’s Next Top Model.
My mum told me I’m too short to be a showgirl.
So in conclusion, Matt’s mom doesn’t hate me.� Maybe we don’t have to fake that pregnancy afterall.