01-19-2008, 11:17 AM
What the heck? All of you must be repressed or something, if you did all those stuff when you were kids?
Truthfully, I've got my own stories
. I don't exactly remember when but I did give an elementary-school classmate an omelette kick once. The little punk was pestering one of my friends almost to the point that the poor girl was crying. I stepped in and gave his crotch something he'll never forget. Boys never messed with me because I had a reputation as a tomboy before.
I even had a phase back in 2nd yr HS that my friends and I would cut classes just to hang out in a secluded spot behind the canteen. We did at least one afternoon per week until one of the sikyu's reported us. Just don't ask what stuff we did there.
Guess I'm not all that different from you guys at all.
Truthfully, I've got my own stories
. I don't exactly remember when but I did give an elementary-school classmate an omelette kick once. The little punk was pestering one of my friends almost to the point that the poor girl was crying. I stepped in and gave his crotch something he'll never forget. Boys never messed with me because I had a reputation as a tomboy before.I even had a phase back in 2nd yr HS that my friends and I would cut classes just to hang out in a secluded spot behind the canteen. We did at least one afternoon per week until one of the sikyu's reported us. Just don't ask what stuff we did there.
Guess I'm not all that different from you guys at all.
I hate the way you talk to me. And the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots And the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick — It even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh — Even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it that you're not around. And the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you — Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots And the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick — It even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh — Even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it that you're not around. And the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you — Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
