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Gimme Yo Candy, Motherfuckers

I'm Vanya Hargreeves. She's Frerard.
One person understood.
They shook their head and said "fuckin MCR nerds".

Be Prepared To Feel Revenge

"If you ever felt alone"
I'm sitting here, in agony, whilst my best friend writes melodramatic poetry about the girl I hate.
"If you ever felt rejected"
Her excuse is that she's straight. Then she brags about having sex with that bitch.
"If you ever felt confused"
About my sexuality? That's why I'm not okay.
"If you ever felt lost"
When I tried to run away that night.
"If you ever felt anxious"
When she was drunk and I had to sit in the bathroom and make sure she was still breathing.
"If you ever felt wrong"
When I tried to tell her how I feel.
"If you ever felt wronged"
When she she spit on


My chorus teacher is awesome.
She came to school dressed like a rockstar and talked with a British accent the entire day.
I love her.

Christian's Inferno.

Take a moment to clear your mind.
Now imagine.
A dim school hallway with black lockers and grey linoleum floors.
Imagine you're walking down said hallway with your close friend, when, suddenly, this boy you like, with flaming curly hair and an awkward smile, sees you and sprints down the hall, takes you in his arms and hugs the shit out of you.
That's how you die of cuteness overload.

I Compose the Music of the Night: Elaboration

Imagine, if you will, a 14-year-old boy singing this song to his 53-year-old chorus instructor.
Imagine that he is embracing her similarly to the picture shown to the right.
I don't have to imagine it.
I watched it happen.
Her: Devin, that was oddly seductive. I'm glad there are witnesses.

I Compose the Music of the Night

First off, this blog is dedicated to the students of the UNL Flash Mob- great job.
Secondly, I just want to say that in chorus today, Devin MacIntire sang Music of the Night to our teacher. It was seductive. And creepy.
That's it..

P.S. Don't Write

I saw a comment on this video for P.S. Don't Write.
It says: "Yesterday, (sunday, September 12) I heard this song. At the point where Frankie says "You don't call the shots any more" up to "......I learned to love myself again" I cried. He's right. Knife, you don't call the shots any more. I'm stronger than you. I'm done with you. Go to hell, and find a wrist there. Pencey Prep forever♥"
I'm very proud of whoever wrote that. Just sayin.

You're Awful, I Love You.

I love how the only one I can talk to about this is the person I need to talk about.
Every time I read the wall posts, messages, anything obtaining to them, it hurts.
I don't understand why this happening. I'm not bi. I'm not gay.
I'm straight. I've only ever liked guys.
Why is this happening NOW? And with my BEST FRIEND?
Why do I cry when she talks about her boyfriend, or the girl she's been fucking since before I met her. Why is it that every time I think of her, I feel happy, but every time I realize I can never have her, I die inside.

Things That Excite Me.

Things That Excite Me:
- Getting new graphic novels
- Playing Kingdom Hearts
- Working haunted houses
- Watching horror films
- Talking to Christian Shank
- Using duct tape to do anything
- Wearing masks
- Double barrel Nerf guns
- 500 Neft darts
- Melodicas
- Music
- Green Fender Strats named Envy
- Rollercoasters
- Jaguars that have been turned into a hearse
- M&M's


Yesterday, I dressed up randomly as Vanya Hargreeves. Then, Ariyah came over and I left to go to a blood drive held by Alton Undead, so she braided my hair and turned me into Wednesday Addams. At about 7, I decided to work the haunted house, so I had my sister run me home. I changed clothes, grabbed a hospital gown, and left again. Ariyah did my makeup, teased my hair, and turned me into a mental patient.
It was cool.