“Well, think about it, you are the epitome of normal, compared to you, everyone is fucked up!”
“Well yes, obviously. I’m totally normal!”
…
“Apart from your irrational fear of flying.”
“Ah yes, there is that.”
“Oooh, and your panic attacks.”
“Those too.”
“And your fear of commitment.”
“Yes. And I do rather like anchovies.”
“And you’re sarcastic on a level and frequency that goes way beyond normal.”
“You’re thinking about this too hard.”
“And you’re mean to ugly people.”
“No I’m not.”
“You are!”
“I am fucking not!”
“And you swear way too much and at inappropriate times.”
“Fuck you!”
“Haha.”
“Hehe.”
“You are normal…it’s just that opposites attract.”
“I love you, even though you’re fucking ugly”
“I love you too Freakgirl.”
Filed under: friends, life, love, me, men, mental health, nonsense, observations, relationships, silliness |
Tags: my bestie is an honest gal
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Normal is fucked up. Long live us beautiful freaks.
I want a doll just like that, to scare people with
You sound like me. Other than the fear of flying and fondness for anchovies. And a whole bunch of other things too, which aren’t on the list. And no one seems like a freak next to me. Ok, maybe a few people. Ok, a lot of people. But whatever, fuck. This is what happens when I try to write a comment. This is why I don’t write a whole lot of them.
Yup, it rings a bell here too, in the sense of defining your own normality through your own - I assume - offbeat approach to life rather than your particular brand of fucked-upness. Either way, yes, me too.
Looks a bit like Chucky.