THE BITCH.

so, i have this friend.

only she's not really a friend, but more like one of those people you tolerate and don't really know why. i think i tolerate her just so i won't have problems with anyone. that, or having false hope that she's changed and isn't such a bitch anymore is what keeps me from de-friending her.

cause she's a bitch. a straight up fucking asshole. not only that, she's FULL of herself. more than full, completely overflowing in her own shit. she literally brags about anything and everything every chance she gets, pathetically posting myspace bulletins about the new things she has bought or received from her loser boyfriend. like, who the fuck has the time and nerve to let all their myspace friends know every material thing her boyfriend has bought her in their whole pathetic relationship? really, you're that shallow that you keep a list?

i hardly ever talk to her. which is a good thing, cause as soon as i start to, i'm already sick of her. she disgusts me. i know it's lame to get mad over myspace shit, but really that's the only place we communicate and it was pretty unnecessary for her to do what she did. this whole blog was triggered by the fact that i innocently posted a survey on a bulletin out of boredom, and in it i mentioned that i spent over 100 dollars today while doing some anger-induced shopping. to which she posted a response bulletin saying

"i absolutely cannot stand people who brag.

it's the ones who brag that are the ones

who don't have s**t. seriously.

get over yourself. your wasting your time,

no one believes you. :)"

prepare for enumerated insults/comebacks, you fucking cunt.

1) you brag more than anyone i know, and you really don't have shit.

2) get over myself? if anyone needs to do that, it's your nappy-haired, loose vag, pathetic ass.

3) no one believes me? hmm, i think that's my favorite. i wouldn't say things like this if you hadn't pissed me off so bad, but here goes: all YOU have to do is take one look at my house and car, and you'll see that it's more than you'll ever have in your excuse for a life. you're always talking about your "expensive purses and perfumes" that you have like two of, well honey at least mine are real. not stolen or bought as good knock-offs. i feel like buying you a REAL chanel purse, so i don't have to laugh every time i see your pleather bags.

4) you're fat.

i can't help but go back and think of that list you posted of everything your disgusting boyfriend has bought you throughout the time you've been with him. that's low. if i added up all the things my baby has bought me, it'd probably come out to quadruple what your man has spent on you, but really i could care less what he buys me, cause i value his love and our time together so much more.

honestly, i think she's jealous. because i didn't always used to be so happy and thriving. i'm literally in my prime right now, while she, over the years, has only gotten fatter, uglier, lonlier, more insecure, more shallow, and more fucked up. i've held back from talking this shit about you for so long, because i felt sorry for you. sorry that you can't keep the same friends for longer than a year, sorry that your boyfriend wanted me first and settled for you, sorry that you really don't have shit and are insecure (that's obviously why you say the things you do and feel the need to brag about what little you have), sorry that you rely on your mom and boyfriend to take you everywhere and buy everything for you, sorry about your overall appearance and horrible attitude, sorry that you've pushed your boyfriend so far away that he tells people, even me, that he really doesn't care about you or your relationship anymore, sorry that he's straight up asked me to cheat on my boyfriend with him even after i've rejected him multiple times, but mostly sorry that i hadn't told you all this before so maybe you'd realize what a fucked up person you are and that the only direction you're heading is down.

basically, you're a lowlife waste of space and you really need to rethink your whole personality.

BITCH.