|Date||22 February 2011|
|References||BBC - Official Website|
Stalked By The Dead
So – big news! A dead kid fancies me. Aren't I just the Luckiest girl in the school?
Gotta say, I'm not keen. And before we get into the many reasons why, can I just say this has nothing to do with weight. Even if Matt looked like Bras Pitt and had a six pack like an egg box, still not happening.
Eggs. See, he's even got me doing it now.
It's a basic character clash. I've got one and he hasn't. No, that's not fair. But there is a kind of basic incompatibility. I always judge a man by his Mp3 collection I once had a boyfriend who downloaded nothing but 'Best Ever' compilations of chart hits. It was a clear indication of his staggering lack of depth which I only wish I'd known before I'd snogged him. It would have saved me a hell of a lot of time figuring out that he was a dribbling idiot.
I've heard Matt's favourite band. He made Adam play a track. It sounded like someone with laryngitis screaming in a steel mill while someone else threw a drum set down some stairs. If he'd lived Matt would have become a metal head. He's already got the build. And he's certainly cracked the 'live fast die young' thing which is not my bag. At all.
The really weird thing about this, and something I'd not thought of before, is (crossed out i) this if Matt didn't fancy me, he'd probably still be alive. If he hadn't been staring at me that day, he wouldn't have been anywhere near those toilets and so wouldn't have died. Unless of course the killer has been stalking Matt for weeks, just waiting for the right move to strike.
That thought makes me feel a bit better.
If Matt were a dog, he would be a St. Bernard. Looking up at you with doleful eyes, as he slightly begs you not to to take him to be put down for peeing on the rug. Or eating your sofa. Whole. Which really isn't the kind of vibe I want in potential boyfriends.
Where as if Adam were a dog he would be a Chihuahua. Who needed the snip. Badly. And until such time will continue to mistake your leg for another Chihuahua.
Honestly, I could have dealt with Brandy. No problem. But oh no, he has to take advantage of the situation and 'pretend' to be my boyfriend. Which apparently involves him morphing into an octopus. I was so close to elbowing him right in the teeth, which admittedly would have slightly blown our cover. And would have projectile vomiting in his face. Which was another option I was struggling to avoid.
The really scary thing is that Brandy believed it. She didn't look at me and go: 'You and him? No way! She is way out of your league.' She just accepted it. Me and Adam. Boyfriend and girlfriend.
And then he kissed my hand.
Seriously, I won't wash it for a week. To think. His lips touched my hand.
Oh no, I mean the other thing don't I? Bleach and a wire brush until you see bone. Or simply lop it of at the wrist with a machete. Only way to be sure
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