Because I'm Just Not That Into You.
Sometimes I just wanna bitchslap you. Wait. I take that back. I always want to bitchslap you for the ridiculously insane situations you get yourself into.
Seriously, sometimes, you oughtta shut the bleeding fuck up. No, really. I'm not just saying this. I need you to say it together with me as you read this- 'I need to shut the bleeding fuck up.' Then add sometimes to the end of the sentence because God knows the whirl wouldn't be the same if you shut the fucken hell up all the bleeding time.
It was aaalll happy dandy. Happy Dandy. HAPPY DANDY. Until you HAD to open your mouth. I could've shoot you. I'd take the nearest silver cutlery, put a couple of peas from my plates, aim it to your forehead, then decide my aim isn't good enough, dump the peas and throw the entire bleeding piece of cutlery straight at your forehead.
And considering my pathetic sense of direction, it'll probably hit the person behind me. But ANYWAY. As I was saying, I want to shoot you. I want to shoot you, I want to kill you, then resurrect you all over again and shoot you and kill you again.
I'm going fucking crazy because of you. Wait NO. Because of your big mouth. Wait NO. Make that gigantomous mouth. I know I looove to know what you think about God, what you think about the latest book I'm reading, what the latest movie to watch is, but for once, FOR ONCE Goddammit, why didn't you just blink, nod, smile and look away? It would have been SO MUCH EASIER.
Why do you always have to say the wrong things?
Ok, not always. I'm glad I actually like most of the things that come out from your mouth. Because otherwise, it'd be beyond me why I had been spending so much time with you. But. BUT. BUT!
-Whips out inhaler, takes a puff, breathes deeply in the hope to stop sounding like a wheezing guinea pig-
Ahhhh.
Anyhoo. I think I get myself into ridiculous situations too. How Imma juggle Heatwave [my show's gonna be on Monday before 1, btw. I made sure of that.], Catalog AND school is beyond me. Phin has, by the way, single handedly killed me by passing me two new CDs to review. It's not about the reviewing part. It's the CDs- Daniel Bedingfield and the Jay Z and Linkin Park collaboration CD/DVD.
Cheebyekanina.
But lucky for me I don't have to camp out and perspire at Zoukout tonight. Thank the Heavens.
We borrowed a Sex & The City book from Borders for our Dec issue[which will be out Monday] gift section entitled "He's just not that into you."
Wouldn't it make life much much much more simpler if someone I was going out with just says, "You know what, I'm just not that into you." My pride will be blown [as per usual] but hey, it makes things far easier for the both of us wouldn't it? Just tell it to my face.
I'm just not that into you.
Simple.