fandomhigh | Great, It's Friday Again, Why Did I Start This Stupid Fucking Club, Why Do You Show Up, Go Die

Current Mood: indifferent

Great, It's Friday Again, Why Did I Start This Stupid Fucking Club, Why Do You Show Up, Go Die

George couldn't muster up much hate today, so apathy club was going to be more apathetic than hate-filled. Somehow, the other members of the club would have to find it in their hearts to forgive her.

If they could be bothered to care in the first place.

"I dunno," George said. "There's that stupid dance tonight. Everybody's so thrilled about it. Who cares."

George was going, to the dance. She'd even bought herself a ticket.

"Everybody's probably doing their haaaaaaair and maaaaaaake-up and making sure their lame dresses look nice."

Her dress was green.

"Whatever," she said. "Fuck the dance."

And, as an afterthought, "Whoever ... bought me flowers? Uh. Thank you? I think?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Like you got some flowers. (WTF?)

It's like mingling, except for how it totally isn't. Mingling blows.

Valentine's: worst holiday ever y/y?

In case you feel like fucking smoking and fucking bitching about shit going on in your life. Not that any of the rest of us are gonna fucking care. We don't.

Whatever.

Yeah. This'd be him.

Unless you want to ask for a date or something. That was pretty cool.

Sorry this is late! I thought I had posted it, and hadn't.

And no, Bella, you can't have any of my chicken strips. No matter how cute you are when you sniff like that.

Jenny Sparks

Jenny was lounging in the back, smoking a cigarette and wearing a little red dress like she did this every day.

She might as well have been wearing a sign reading, 'If anyone wants to get laid, I'm free.'

Whatever.

No smelly guy today. He'd managed to get hold of a heart-shaped turnip somehow, and the last Edmund had seen him, was in the process of reciting extemporaneously-composed love poetry to it.

Whatever. Dear God, whatever. As long as it kept him out of the vegetable rack.

Squall Leonhart

Squall was significantly less sullen than normal.

In fact, it might even be supposed that he was looking forward to the dance.

Whatever.

Jack McCallister

Whatever.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Great, It's Friday Again, Why Did I Start This Stupid Fucking Club, Why Do You Show Up, Go Die

Like You Didn't Expect This One To Be "Fucking Sign In." Just Shut Up and Do It.

Hang Out In the Back, Avoid Eye Contact, And Be Sullen

Stupid Fucking Commercialized Holidays About Stupid Fucking Cutesy Emotions

Eyeroll, Bitch and Moan

Whatever

The Faculty Advisor Who Isn't That Creepy Old Guy But Who Sometimes Brings That Smelly Guy

Don't Talk To George

OOC

Re: Like You Didn't Expect This One To Be "Fucking Sign In." Just Shut Up and Do It.

Re: Hang Out In the Back, Avoid Eye Contact, And Be Sullen

Re: Whatever

Re: The Faculty Advisor Who Isn't That Creepy Old Guy But Who Sometimes Brings That Smelly Guy

Re: Like You Didn't Expect This One To Be "Fucking Sign In." Just Shut Up and Do It.

Re: Hang Out In the Back, Avoid Eye Contact, And Be Sullen

Re: Whatever

Re: Like You Didn't Expect This One To Be "Fucking Sign In." Just Shut Up and Do It.

Re: Whatever