Status: Discontinued
Have Kids, Then We'll Talk
Adelaide Ross: Don't Tell All Your Friends
My name is Adelaide Colleen Ross. I have seen more than you ever will in my fifteen years on this planet. I am too skinny. I am too plain. I am my father’s daughter. My mother is most well known for jumping out of a box. It was my father’s twenty-first birthday. Go ahead. The pictures are online.
The story of my conception/life goes something like this:
Mommy (Keltie) fucks Daddy (Ryan). Daddy leaves Mommy. Mommy wants to get back together, says she’s pregnant. Daddy is fucking Brendon. Mommy has me. Daddy is still fucking Brendon. Mommy leaves me to Daddy and takes off. Brendon and Daddy take me in. Brendon and Daddy have Shay. Me and Shay grow up. Shay is a smart slut and gets to skip a grade. She thinks I’m a dumbass. The oh so happy Urie-Ross family is stuck with me.
Story of my life.
Have fun?
It’s at night—on the nights when Daddy and Brendon are out partying and grabbing tabloid covers—it’s at night when I begin to think that I am worthless. It’s at night when I begin to be honest with myself about what I truly am. About who I truly am.
I am a product of my mother’s power hungry quest to be my father’s love—forever. Too bad he didn’t feel that way about her. Too bad he’s fucking gay, you fucking nympho. If you ask me what I think, I think she knew he was going to dump her—hard. Don’t ask me the details of my conception, because even if my dad told me (and I wouldn’t put it past him), I really don’t want to know. Trust me, my feelings about the details of my conception and what goes on in Brendon and Daddy’s room are the same.
I am Adelaide Ross—let the last name reverberate through your mind and try to remember who it belongs to. Hint: it involves lacey shirts and exclamation points. I didn’t get Urie-Ross in their though—that belongs to my asswipe of a half-sister, Shay. I am Adelaide Colleen Ross, the daughter of Keltie Colleen and Ryan Ross (or ‘The Gayest Dude in PATD’). I am the only child in this family who has a mother—but I was raised by my father. And Brendon too, but he doesn’t count. They got stuck with me.
I save all the magazine covers I’m on. Yes this includes Bop! I’m in the liner notes to about half of your favorite CDs—look in the dedications. If it’s Panic! At the Disco and it’s not their first album, I’m there—at least three times. Ryan (To Adelaide, the essence of inspiration.). Brendon (For Shay, the most beatiful girl ever, and Addie, who takes after her father.). Spencer (Adelaide: Thank you for the cookies. They were wonderful.). I am that girl you wish you were.
I play three different instruments, each one twice a day. Once in school, once at home. Piano, violin, guitar. The order is the same. The order will always be the same. But don’t think for a second that just because I play music means that I want to be like my father and Brendon and be the epitome of what I should be.
Because I really don’t.
In fact, for the past three of my fifteen years, I have wished to be anonymous and unknown as my birthday wish. But I always end up blowing my chances in some way or another.
My name is Adelaide Colleen Ross.
But I really wish you’d forget that.
The story of my conception/life goes something like this:
Mommy (Keltie) fucks Daddy (Ryan). Daddy leaves Mommy. Mommy wants to get back together, says she’s pregnant. Daddy is fucking Brendon. Mommy has me. Daddy is still fucking Brendon. Mommy leaves me to Daddy and takes off. Brendon and Daddy take me in. Brendon and Daddy have Shay. Me and Shay grow up. Shay is a smart slut and gets to skip a grade. She thinks I’m a dumbass. The oh so happy Urie-Ross family is stuck with me.
Story of my life.
Have fun?
It’s at night—on the nights when Daddy and Brendon are out partying and grabbing tabloid covers—it’s at night when I begin to think that I am worthless. It’s at night when I begin to be honest with myself about what I truly am. About who I truly am.
I am a product of my mother’s power hungry quest to be my father’s love—forever. Too bad he didn’t feel that way about her. Too bad he’s fucking gay, you fucking nympho. If you ask me what I think, I think she knew he was going to dump her—hard. Don’t ask me the details of my conception, because even if my dad told me (and I wouldn’t put it past him), I really don’t want to know. Trust me, my feelings about the details of my conception and what goes on in Brendon and Daddy’s room are the same.
I am Adelaide Ross—let the last name reverberate through your mind and try to remember who it belongs to. Hint: it involves lacey shirts and exclamation points. I didn’t get Urie-Ross in their though—that belongs to my asswipe of a half-sister, Shay. I am Adelaide Colleen Ross, the daughter of Keltie Colleen and Ryan Ross (or ‘The Gayest Dude in PATD’). I am the only child in this family who has a mother—but I was raised by my father. And Brendon too, but he doesn’t count. They got stuck with me.
I save all the magazine covers I’m on. Yes this includes Bop! I’m in the liner notes to about half of your favorite CDs—look in the dedications. If it’s Panic! At the Disco and it’s not their first album, I’m there—at least three times. Ryan (To Adelaide, the essence of inspiration.). Brendon (For Shay, the most beatiful girl ever, and Addie, who takes after her father.). Spencer (Adelaide: Thank you for the cookies. They were wonderful.). I am that girl you wish you were.
I play three different instruments, each one twice a day. Once in school, once at home. Piano, violin, guitar. The order is the same. The order will always be the same. But don’t think for a second that just because I play music means that I want to be like my father and Brendon and be the epitome of what I should be.
Because I really don’t.
In fact, for the past three of my fifteen years, I have wished to be anonymous and unknown as my birthday wish. But I always end up blowing my chances in some way or another.
My name is Adelaide Colleen Ross.
But I really wish you’d forget that.