<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar/24173408?origin\x3dhttp://iknowyouarejealous.blogspot.com', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
Saturday, June 03, 2006


Last night, I realised something that I'd erroneously taken for granted and I was mortified. Please forgive me.


When I'm pissed off, you took my punches. When I'm breaking down, you dried my tears. When I face a crisis, you shared my burden. When I need you, you were always there for me. When I don't need you, you were always waiting around to catch me should I fall suddenly. When I hated myself, you loved me. The countless times I came to you this week, to fret and whine about the disastrous pre- party preparations. You helped in whatever you could. (Reviewing the food list, getting the music etc) You helped to make the party a success. The party you weren't attending. Yet I did not register any of these, until your bare words last night hit me hard in the head.


"Let me know if you need me. Even if you don't, you know I'll always be there for you."


I was so overwhelmed. I wasn't touched. Not really. I was ashamed. I wanted to sleep it off at the suite. I couldn't bear to reflect on my selfish ways. I felt so disgusted at myself. You were right. I only come to you when I'm faced with a problem. I should be unworthy of your care and concern after all the mean things I've said to you last night. But you swallowed it down as usual. Even if they choked you and made you gag, you swallowed it down for me, the undeserving twat.


If my life was a stage, you have always been in the backstage. You hardly let yourself be known. You never claimed any credit you deserved for the sweat, blood and tears you've constantly invested into the production, yet you were always there to ensure that even during perilous times of dark despair, the show will go on. Now, I want to take back all I've said. I don't want you in the backstage anymore.


I want you to be in the show. In my show. And this show must go on.


keep it SHUT; 10:59 am


The Queen Tells It Like It Is

Her Majesty
Crowned 3rd Oct 1989
Can crack a walnut with her butt NastyLawn-mower
Pain in the arse
Be afraidBe very afraid
The current mood of chewingcorn at www.imood.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical or otherwise, without prior permission of the Queen.

Can You Make The Queen?
How to make a Cassandra
Ingredients:
1 part pride
1 part crazyiness
5 parts ego
Method:
Stir together in a glass tumbler with a salted rim. Add a little cocktail umbrella and a dash of lovability



Hail To The Queen