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One of those crazy teen blogger types. Completely bribe-able with coffee. An INTP.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009


I despise my mother's cat. Hate it. I mean, I like cats most of the time- but Bootsy is an absolute demon. She is currently standing out my bedroom door, hissing and threatening to eat my feet (well, bite and scratch the hell out of them, anyway) if I should try to exit. I have to... er... empty my bowels, and the bathroom is directly across the hall. God, I hate Bootsy. I just mentally nicknamed her 'She Who Eats Feet.' The worst part is: she's an angel with my mom. She's like one of those exceptionally horrible teacher's pets that cheats and cusses and all, but is a total suckup to the teacher. (The cat, I mean, not my mom.)

She hates us children, though. I don't know why. I'm not a loud, annoying kid, I'm a quiet thirteen year old that spends most of her time reading (just like my mother, who Bootsy adores)! I don't move quickly, so that can't be it either. Maybe I'll record her hissing and post it up. On second thought, no. I don't want to get that close to her.

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