Why I had to unfollow you: I don’t care what your child spewed from it’s underdeveloped brain/mouth–I care about how you willingly stopped talking to me years ago because someone who doesn’t know me told you to.
Also, stop texting me every now and then. Even though I blacklisted your number, it still tells me when and who texted. Nothing you send means anything anymore. Our senses of humor no longer line up, which is something that would happen in a situation like ours. We don’t have anything in common anymore.
Naming your child after a Disney princess when you live in Florida is the lamest shit ever and proves you have zero creativity, even though you dropped out of one of our most prestigious art colleges.
I have more faith in the pregnant 14-year-old in my 6th period.
*Oh, my mistake. The baby was named after an obscure Bjork song that no one would ever think of first because of the Disney princess. I feel like these are all the things you consider during that nine months when you’re planning your baby’s name–you know, the one they’ll have forever. You think of how the name sounds, like a garbled mess in your mouth when you call them from across the house, or how the kids at school can make fun of the name, the possibilities here being endless.
But they’ll probably just call her by her middle name, which is a nickname already, of another fucking weirdo musician.
I’m more worried about how they’ll pay for all the medical shit this kid’s gonna have since no one ever thinks of hereditary issues and how to raise a family on a dishwasher’s salary.
Stupid fucking morons.