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What goes on the life of a normal teenage dirtbag.
Hatred.
His name is Mike. He's a ******** moron. He's a hipster cowboy. Let me explain. Mike is this fatshit moron. He's the biggest redneck I know. He wears cowboy boots with his gym shorts and hipster black-framed glasses. He's a moron, an idiot, he chews gum like the cows in his backyard chew grass. He only writes in pen, so approximately every 0.56 seconds in math, he is complaining that he's messed up again, yet he refuses to write any differently.
He wrote me a note the other day saying, "HI smilies/icon_razz.gif Your lookin rly pretty today!!!!!" and then drew a comic of him waving. (Stick people comic.) I wrote back simply, "Go away." He drew a comic of a stick person walking away (Which was it just getting smaller in smaller, which made no sense and then it went into a puddle of black ink tar or some s**t.) He replied, "lol your so mean haha" and I wrote back, "Seriously, Go. Away."

The night of opening he thinks it'll be cute to come backstage while we're changing and getting make-up on and getting in the zone. I tell him to leave.
"Why? This is my theatre."
"Sweetheart, this is not your theatre, nor will it ever be. The playbill right now says Jeff Kelly, Ashley Brock, Erica, Catherine, James, Rob. It's our theatre, not yours. We are 30 minutes away from the show, we do not need distractions. Leave the backstage area. You may hang out in the cafeteria where everyone should be."
"Uh, no. This is America. It's a free country. I can do what I want."
"Don't you dare give me that again, get the ******** out. We have a show."
And I walked away. As I'm walking away I hear, "You're such a ******** b***h, and of course you have to walk away like a little child."
So I yell over my shoulder, "And of course you have to talk about me behind my back, like a little child."
Later I'm getting things set up in the booth, and I see him talking to Mr. Kelly (Our teacher director whatever whatever.) I stop what I am doing and stand there clearly watching them talk.
Mike looks at me and makes a hand movement signaling me to go away. I plant my feet where I was and cross my arms defiantly. So he eventually continues what he is saying. He's complaining to Mr. Kelly that I "hurt his feelings" Mr. Kelly walks off, and Mike comes up to me and says, "That's what you get." And I told him, "Kill yourself." He laughed, I didn't. I gave him my infamous death glare. Which isn't nice to be on the receiving end of.

So 2 minutes later Mr. Kelly asks me what happened. So I tell him. He looked disappointed in me, and then asked where he was. When I told him he was backstage and in the wings, he told me I did the right thing, but I could have probably been gentler. I just said yes, sir. But eh. Mike's been giving me s**t for a while. I am progressively rude to him, but he doesn't really... get it.

I don't like Mike.

Purple Sky Painter
Community Member
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