Before I blow the top of my head off with the amount of angry steam boiling inside me, I'll take a quick minute and ask (rhetorical) questions about the things that more or less are bothering me.

<strong>It takes one to know one</strong> is a saying that goes through my mind when our neighbors call us selfish and are implying that everyone <em>but</em> them is. Sorry, but it <em>does</em> take one to know one.

<strong>To all babbler mouths:</strong> shut the hell up. Don't talk about shutting the hell up, just do it. Talking about people behind their backs will hit you back tenfold, believe you me.

<strong>Rejections make for bad timing.</strong> Why is it <a href="http://thefanlistings.org/" title="External Link: The Fanlistings.org">fanlisting »</a> rejections come at the worst time possible? Is it enough that my life is slightly askew and a 45mm would come in handy right about now? *eerie pause* I suppose not.

<strong>I have never met someone who wasn't goo goo gah gah over a crush</strong> and I seriously doubt I ever will. Telling us about said crush isn't enough, so therefore everyone in hearing distance <em>must</em> know about everything going on with you two, only leaving out your sex life (which is kind of the only thing worth hearing, anyway).

<strong>Acting your age is overrated</strong>, I hear, but when your 25 years old and still acting like a 14-year-old, I think it's time you wake up and smell the damn adulthood. There's no reason to be freaking out over "having some dick" or "uploading myspace pictures", when your <em>25 years old</em>!

<strong>End</strong>. That felt good, and honestly, the anger and wrath inside me needs to be released. I rather do it to poor old Lyone, then to some stranger walking down the street who happens to run into me.

<abbr title="The magazine Gentleman's Quarterly">GQ</abbr> <strong>makes for happy times. But maybe it's the men.</strong> It could be, and I try to talk myself into that, but it's the clothes <em>and</em> the men. WIN.