You're a Bitch.

You’re a bitch and I hate you.

I use the word ‘hate’ a lot but I really mean it.

This isn’t just about Beyonce or people who wear rosaries.

In your case it’s so true it’s scary.

I hate you more than I hate Snooki.

Who is your idol.

Hilarious.

I have dreams about beating the shit out of you.

You either beg me to stop or laugh at me.

I don’t know which one pisses me off more.

Which one makes me hit you harder.

Almost every day I have to hear your voice.

And I try to take joy out of how fucking stupid you sound whenever you open your mouth.

But it’s hard when everyone acts like they’re in love with you.

I think they don’t actually give a fuck.

But you were on TV.

So they pretend they care.

Seriously though,

I can’t fucking wait for the episode to air.

I’m throwing a party and laughing at your stupid fat ass all night.

Really I am.

And you’re not invited.

By the way,

It doesn’t matter how much weight you lose.

You’re still a bitch.

And I would laugh if I witnessed your death.

I would probably dance in your blood.

Or some fucked up shit like that.

Because you deserve it.

But really,

Thank you so much for teaching me about backstabbers.

About paranoid vain whores that pretend to be my sister.

That make me fucking stupid juvenile notes about ‘BFF 4 EVER’.

Which I pretended to like.

Like when you tell a kid their drawing is good.

But you really don’t know if it’s a dog or a helicopter.

I burned all your notes.

By the way,

Thank you for taking away my best friend.

Because you thought I was trying to steal him from you.

Sometimes I still cry about him.

Though I know tears shed over boys are wasted water.

I loved him you know.

Not that you care.

(Now I know you knew he loved me back)

(Bitch)

And by the way,

I hope you two get married.

Since no doubt you’ll be knocked up in the next year.

Because that’s what you want.

Isn’t it?

Then you can be on Sixteen and Pregnant.

Double the MTV appearances.

Double the people watching you.

You think they’re inspired.

I know they’re laughing at you.

(I’m laughing at you)

Because you’re fat and stupid and ugly.

Inside and out, bitch.

And I hope that you think your life is perfect.

Because you have a boyfriend you ‘love’.

(You know nothing about love.

And that day you said: ‘You can‘t find a cuter couple than us’

I threw up in my mouth)

Because everybody fawns over you.

(To your face)

Because you’re on TV.

(Pathetic enough to get on TV)

I will laugh at you.

Until the day I die I’m going to loath you.

Until the day you utter a sentence without ‘I’ or ‘me’ in it.

In short:

FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING BITCH.

Choke on every fucking sentence you use to brag about yourself.

Because I’m a sad sack motherfucking depressed piece of shit,

But at least I admit it.

Bitch.