When I read the posts of peacetrain I sense desperation. Like that of one of those sad little school girls who was never popular/pretty/fun.
One wanting so badly to be accepted by the “in” group - but shunned. So the desperation turns into loathing for anyone that is what she wants so badly to be and out of that hatred, she attacks all those that she perceives to be everything she is not.
She tries to hide her assaults with sarcasm and humor, thinking maybe no one will notice.......and most likely still hoping beyond hope that she will still be accepted.
The problem is that all she does is show herself for what she is…….someone who is bitter and angry.
Cue the violins please . . .
sniffle . . . sniffle . . . sniffle . . . it´s true what GG says . . . sniffle, sniffle, I can´t deny it any longer. I am indeed at the point of absolute desperation . . . for a good razor!
I tried everything to look like the "in " group. I bleached my hair, had my ears pinned down too, but they just sprang up again. I tried to set a new trend, you´ve heard of a Brazilian? Well I had a Glaswegian . . . paisley design through the hair on my ar . . . ar . . . . arms. I really can´t understand why it never caught on . . ..
Oh . . . the shunning . . . . . . the shunning got so very bad. I was no match for those beautiful girls in the "in" group and what made it worse was my "Glaswegian" didn´t last more than a couple of days. I spent so much money on razors I never had the money to bribe my way into the good books of the "in" group. I was never good enough for the cheerleading team either, even though I told them I had belonged to the same team as GW Bush in my last school.
Pretty soon my desperation turned to loathing . . . oh the loaaaaaathing . . . the loathing was consuming me (as were the lice). I loathed anyone who reflected the image I wanted for myself . . . I was so fed up of not being able to rub the fake tan in and ending up looking like an orangutan. I wanted so badly to be one of the "in" group and gradually my loathing turned to pure hatred and out of that hatred, I attacked all those that I perceived to be everything I was not.
I deliberately started a whoo . . . whoo . . .whoo . . .whooping cough epidemic on one occasion, a particularly nasty strain as everytime a coughing fit set in sufferers had the uncontrollable urge to scratch their armpits. This didn´t go down well with the guys and I was shunned even more after that.
After my traumatic school days ended I graduated with honours at the local tattoo parlour, gaining a special distinction in underarm and nostril hair plaiting and ear lobe henna decoration.
Clutching my newly gained qualification, I offered the "in" group special discounts in order to gain their friendship, but they simply viewed my talents with disdain.
I tried a new tactic, I joined the "in" group´s chat forums . . . at least they couldn´t see me there. But it wasn´t long before the odd slip, such as professing my love for babanas and peanuts on the "what is your favourite snack?" thread, gave me away. My request for advice on what a hairy girl should expect during a visit to the Turkish baths wasn´t helpful either.
Pretty soon my efforts to be accepted by the "in" group seemed futile and so I succumbed to the dark side and began assaults, all the time trying to disguise the sar-ca-ca-ca-ca-casm and hum-or-or-or-or, hoping beyond hope that I would one day be accepted.
The problem is that all I do is show myself for what I am…….someone who is bitter and angry .. . WHEN SOMEONE NICKS ME BANANAS!!!!!
Knowing I´m the only one sporting a Glaswegian doesn´t help either . . . anyone fancy giving me a Mancunian for half the going rate?
Oh, what a relief to get that off my chest (the confession, not the hair ), and I owe it all to GG.
Thanks doll, I couldn´t have faced the truth, or shared it, without you.
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