61 Ways To Annoy/Piss Off Billie Joe Armstrong
Number Four On The List
“Yes, mom, the camping trips going fine. And fine, I will call every time I find a phone. Okay, okay, bye.” I finished and put the phone back in its cradle.
Funny how a tiny little white lie; can take you away from your very loving family for two weeks and living your idol. I had told my parents that I was going to go on a camping trip for the next two weeks, and my mom, being a very easy going person, need to know a few small detail before letting me go.
And my father, Kyle, was just as easy going, but he’s a bit more protective then mom, so he needed to know more details before giving me permission to. I had never lied to them before, so they really had no reason to question my answers.
Cool parents, huh?
“Who was that?” The voice brought me out my thoughts and scared the life out me. I looked at the door there stood, my idol, Billie Joe Armstrong, all dressed up and looking sexy in his American Idiot clothes. I couldn’t help but smirk at him.
“That was,” I stopped, trying to think of a good thing to say, telling him it was my mom was surely going to bring up a few questions. “It was just a friend.”
“Oh,” he said as he walked over to me and took a seat next to me, looking very serious. “Listen, Ellie, we need to talk about your mother.”
Damn it.
This was not a good thing to be talking about, if we did, then he would figure out that I’m not really his ‘long lost daughter.’ I quickly changed the subject. “Can I comb your hair?” I asked eyeing his very messy mop of black hair. “I mean it’s so messy, like really messy.”
“What?” Billie asked, running his hand through the mop, worsening the blackness.
I gave his hair a look of disgust, the dude was in serious need of a good brush. “Oh, look, you just made it even messier, hold on I’ll be back in a minute.” I jumped up from the sofa and ran to the room I was staying in.
Only to return seconds later; holding a very fine toothed, bright neon pink, comb and an evil smirk on my face. I watched as Billie’s eyes followed me and locked on the comb in my and his eyes widen in horror. “Oh, no, no, no, no, you don’t.” Billie back up against the arm rest of the sofa, as I cautiously my way made to him. “Ellie, I’m warning you, put that down.”
“But, Billie, you really need this. Please, I wont hurt you” I gave him my puppy dog look, at home it was known as, ‘The Ellie Look’ known to get me anything I wanted. “Billie, please.” I added pouting.
Billie relaxed a bit, and looked like he was thinking. “Awwhhh, alright then.”
“Yes!” I shouted, and jumped up and down before running to Billie and sitting next him, facing him. I launched myself at him and buried the comb as deep into the mop of hair as it would.
“Ow, ow, ow, owwwwww.” Billie cried, as I repeatedly tugged at the comb, trying to get it to move, it wouldn’t budge. Every time I pulled at the comb, Billie’s head moved instead of the comb. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”
After a few more hard tugs and a few pained cries coming from Billie, I gave up, “Yeah, that’s not coming out.” I said throwing my hands in the air and looking defeated.
Billie’s face was just pure shock-horror, as he tried pulling on the comb in his hair. “You’re kidding right?”
“Wait, lemme try.” I said, and pulled on the comb once, then again, before giving up again. “Defiantly not coming out.”
Billie jumped up and ran to the mirror, pulling at the comb, the pain clearly visible on his face. “No, no, no, no. You did this to me now you have to un-do it!” He said, pointing a threatening finger at me. “I have an interview, soon, I can’t go like this.”
“I thought you didn’t care what people thought about you?” I asked, questioning him.
“I don’t, but, I just can’t show up at an interview with a bright neon pick in my hair. It’s just something you don’t do.” Billie answered, matter-of-factly, still pulling on the comb.
“So, you’d dye your hair blue, but won’t show up to an interview with a comb in your hair.” I said, rubbing my chin and looking like I was judging him.
A thought weaved its way into my mind and smirked at the panicking Billie, desperately tugging at the comb. “Billie,” I started out sweetly. “There is a way to get the comb out, you know.”
“What? What is it? I’ll do anything.” Billie squealed, still pulling on the comb.
“Well, you like, oh, I don’t know,” I paused for good effect. “Like, go bald early.”
“GO BALD!” Billie shouted. “THAT’S EVEN WORSE.” Billie looked angry, but at the same time scared.
“It’s the only way out, dude.” I said, trying to hold in my laughter, and succeeded, for once.
“NOO!” Billie shouted, and ran out the room, waving his arms around and screaming. His screams were heard running through the entire house, while I was on the floor laughing my ass of.
Funny how a tiny little white lie; can take you away from your very loving family for two weeks and living your idol. I had told my parents that I was going to go on a camping trip for the next two weeks, and my mom, being a very easy going person, need to know a few small detail before letting me go.
And my father, Kyle, was just as easy going, but he’s a bit more protective then mom, so he needed to know more details before giving me permission to. I had never lied to them before, so they really had no reason to question my answers.
Cool parents, huh?
“Who was that?” The voice brought me out my thoughts and scared the life out me. I looked at the door there stood, my idol, Billie Joe Armstrong, all dressed up and looking sexy in his American Idiot clothes. I couldn’t help but smirk at him.
“That was,” I stopped, trying to think of a good thing to say, telling him it was my mom was surely going to bring up a few questions. “It was just a friend.”
“Oh,” he said as he walked over to me and took a seat next to me, looking very serious. “Listen, Ellie, we need to talk about your mother.”
Damn it.
This was not a good thing to be talking about, if we did, then he would figure out that I’m not really his ‘long lost daughter.’ I quickly changed the subject. “Can I comb your hair?” I asked eyeing his very messy mop of black hair. “I mean it’s so messy, like really messy.”
“What?” Billie asked, running his hand through the mop, worsening the blackness.
I gave his hair a look of disgust, the dude was in serious need of a good brush. “Oh, look, you just made it even messier, hold on I’ll be back in a minute.” I jumped up from the sofa and ran to the room I was staying in.
Only to return seconds later; holding a very fine toothed, bright neon pink, comb and an evil smirk on my face. I watched as Billie’s eyes followed me and locked on the comb in my and his eyes widen in horror. “Oh, no, no, no, no, you don’t.” Billie back up against the arm rest of the sofa, as I cautiously my way made to him. “Ellie, I’m warning you, put that down.”
“But, Billie, you really need this. Please, I wont hurt you” I gave him my puppy dog look, at home it was known as, ‘The Ellie Look’ known to get me anything I wanted. “Billie, please.” I added pouting.
Billie relaxed a bit, and looked like he was thinking. “Awwhhh, alright then.”
“Yes!” I shouted, and jumped up and down before running to Billie and sitting next him, facing him. I launched myself at him and buried the comb as deep into the mop of hair as it would.
“Ow, ow, ow, owwwwww.” Billie cried, as I repeatedly tugged at the comb, trying to get it to move, it wouldn’t budge. Every time I pulled at the comb, Billie’s head moved instead of the comb. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”
After a few more hard tugs and a few pained cries coming from Billie, I gave up, “Yeah, that’s not coming out.” I said throwing my hands in the air and looking defeated.
Billie’s face was just pure shock-horror, as he tried pulling on the comb in his hair. “You’re kidding right?”
“Wait, lemme try.” I said, and pulled on the comb once, then again, before giving up again. “Defiantly not coming out.”
Billie jumped up and ran to the mirror, pulling at the comb, the pain clearly visible on his face. “No, no, no, no. You did this to me now you have to un-do it!” He said, pointing a threatening finger at me. “I have an interview, soon, I can’t go like this.”
“I thought you didn’t care what people thought about you?” I asked, questioning him.
“I don’t, but, I just can’t show up at an interview with a bright neon pick in my hair. It’s just something you don’t do.” Billie answered, matter-of-factly, still pulling on the comb.
“So, you’d dye your hair blue, but won’t show up to an interview with a comb in your hair.” I said, rubbing my chin and looking like I was judging him.
A thought weaved its way into my mind and smirked at the panicking Billie, desperately tugging at the comb. “Billie,” I started out sweetly. “There is a way to get the comb out, you know.”
“What? What is it? I’ll do anything.” Billie squealed, still pulling on the comb.
“Well, you like, oh, I don’t know,” I paused for good effect. “Like, go bald early.”
“GO BALD!” Billie shouted. “THAT’S EVEN WORSE.” Billie looked angry, but at the same time scared.
“It’s the only way out, dude.” I said, trying to hold in my laughter, and succeeded, for once.
“NOO!” Billie shouted, and ran out the room, waving his arms around and screaming. His screams were heard running through the entire house, while I was on the floor laughing my ass of.