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And, for all you know, I could be lying. Or I couldn't. My mother (if there's a God up there, may He bless the woman) says I'm a terrible liar but then again, she's never caught me lying and puh-lease, it's not like the faithful Arial font is going to break down under pressure just because I'm using it as a means to cover the truth.

But alas, I digress.

So, much more to my own amusement rather than yours (if you're still reading, fucking congrats man!) I shall lay down the relevant facts that make up my very boring life and the person I am today.

I'm a girl. I have no special talents whatsoever other than having no special talents whatsoever (see, I've just shown off my superbly developed writing skills by giving you an oxymoron even Shakespeare would be able to jack off to). It is a talent because, according to some random philosopher whose name I may have missed because I'd been sleeping in class, that everyone has a special talent. Mine is having none. Paradoxical and lovely so. Just like me.

Else... My perfume is Midnight Poison. I buy all my games. I read too many books. I watch way too much anime. I eat dark chocolate with peanut butter and have an MP3 that has fallen off the first floor and now only works with an elastic band around it and a piece of paper. Smooth, huh?

I am, according to very close peers, mentally damaged. As in "Oh my, Diana, will you just please stop playing games/watching anime/reading books and get out of that fucking house? You're not normal!" And they are right but then again, maybe I fancy being different. Maybe not.

Or maybe my dearest mother was right all along and I'm just a lazy girl in her last teens (shite, NO!) who can't even mop up the kitchen floor or sweep up the bathroom after combing (she and my father are always complaining that my "fucking long hair" has fallen and that I should cut it. Nu-uh, bitches, that ain't gonna happen). She also calls me a whole lot nastier things and, sadly, she's right in almost every one of them, bless her knowing heart.

What are those, you wonder? Well, I don't think I'm going to tell. But if you know parents have trouble dealing with a single geek/nerd/dork boy, imagine how they'd deal with a girl. Yup.

I mean, seriously I don't think anything's that much wrong with me. But crazy people tell that to their shrinks, don't they? Oh well.

And, in bold, I admit I'm a very proudly assumed ASEXUAL. If you want: web cam sex, orgies, live sex, random sex, make out or even sweet talk, EFF OFF! There, SAID IT. And while some people might claim I just say this so I can be left the hell alone, well, you may be right. Or not. I'm so not telling. I'll partake that no one's been able to prove me wrong yet. HAH!

What else? I am, I suppose, one of those hateful kids who draw dead people all the time and write utterly depressing poems about their meaningless woes with their blood. You know, those kids who dress all in black and, when you look at them, you say "S/He's not coming near my children!"? Yep, that's me. Or was. I dunno. But when I was an Emo, I was pretty hardcore. I mean, I did listen to Linkin Park and Evanescence and some more crap I refuse to name. It can't get much worse than that. Unless you do kill yourself in a suicide attempt (wait, strike that and replace it with ATTENTION CALL). Then things get nasty. Or do they? You can't get any worse than dead now, can you?

I really think I'm giving off a bad impression of myself here. Or am I? Possibly as, quoting my very dear friend Panda (lulz), "really pinguicha, you give us the idea you eat children for dinner and whatnot but in reality you're the opposite lol". Fuck. He saw right through me, which is shit. Or maybe he didn't but hopes he did. So many people do that nowadays... And he really, really hates me (because that's what good friends do, they hate each other) and there's a possibility he's trying to destroy my evil reputation.

Oh, here I am, blabbering again. It's good entertainment, one might say, especially when it's done in something as blatant as a fucking netpage and with all the lovely ambiguity the Internet can afford. And let's not forget it feels even better when you're sipping latte and eating cookies at 3a.m. in the morning while a random episode of Family Guy is being broadcast by the 10000th time on FOX right behind you.

And I'm random. Painfully so, if you haven't got it yet.

Alternative Lifestyle. Alternative Gaming.

Gaming is love.

Ginger is werewolf love

Made by zar_roc

Brigitte and Ginger are sisterly love

Made by zar_roc

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