Paint your ass like Rembrandt

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

I can't do this shit anymore.

Someone tell me how to get him to shut the fuck up...!




All day, he's constantly thinking about something he shouldn't be.


All day, he's making me want to do things I know I shouldn't. I can't fucking do any of the things he wants me to, I won't.



But this isn't up to me anymore, is it?


( That's the sad part. )

If anyone has ever wished their life was a musical...

...don't.

It's not nearly as much fun as you'd think. Having a song on the radio get stuck in your head is annoying, but having someone living in your head who makes everything melodic is torture. I'm just glad he hasn't gotten me to sing yet. I'm pretty sure I'd be fired if I just burst into song out of no where, singing about something completely inappropriate. And that'd just piss him off.


I don't want to even think about what he'd do to my boss, if that were to happen. She already thinks I'm weird, or crazy, because I hardly talk, but I'd rather not say anything at all than speak and have his words come out instead of mine.

That usually doesn't end well, especially when he's in a bad mood.

( Ten out of nine will say the Pavi. )