Status: Please let me know if you like it, otherwise writing this a waste of time :-)
A Fever You Can't Sweat Out
Fangirls Over Family
Of course I love my sister. She's feisty, she's inherited my obvious good looks, and she could be pretty smart if she wanted to be. But she's a goddamn pain in the arse sometimes. I swear she's out to ruin my life. All this bollocks about 'worrying about my sanity'. My fans do that for me anyway. Bless their little cotton socks.
The fans have saved me from total self destruction. I mean, what kinda guy doesn't want hundreds of long blonde haired girls screaming their name for hours, begging for autographs and asking for marriage proposals all in one night? If I wanted to, I could have a different girl in my bed every day. But I don't. Not EVERY night. And don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with brown hair. Or short hair. But you get me. Well I hope you do, 'cause my parents sure don't.
They're perfect though, my very own Panic Family, my second family. I wouldn't change them for the world. Oh do go ahead and tell me how cheesy that sounds, I'm rehearsing for the opening night in Vegas. Oh Malayna, you just don't understand. When you leave high school baby, maybe you'll hit the big time too. Or maybe you'll just sit around with your One Direction obsession, fangirling with those stupid 'Belieber' girls after class. Yeah, I don't understand either. She obviously hasn't got her taste of music from me. I guess not everyone can be into alternative rock. or I'd have more blonde girls after me than Hitler.
Why are girls so dramatic? I mean, come on, I like my music. A lot. But do I throw my bras and knickers around when I listen to it? No. Then again, I last wore a bra when I was 12. Having enough man boobage to fit into a 32A is pure embarrassment. How girls cope with massive watermelons bouncing on their chests all the time I'll never know. I'm not complaining though. Curvy girls do it for me just fine. Big breasts, skinny waist, killer legs. Mmm-mmmm. Curvy all the way. A girl without DDs is a man. A girl with anything bigger is a fake, and also a man. Transvestite. Darling, you need to sort yourself out. Don't try to impress a guy if you have no boobies. It never works.
So where was I? Oh yeah, my sister. My 15 year old bitch of a sister. My very own clone, Malayna Urie. She used to be fine before I got it on with Spencer and the gang, and we banged out some awesome tunes. I thought she'd be my biggest fan, she adored me even after she turned double figures. She used to grab onto my legs to stop me walking out to band practice every day. That's before I kicked her in the face, split her lip and knocked out three teeth. Well she ruined my favourite black skinnies, what can I say?
Makeup changes people I guess, I always told her to ask me for eyeliner tips, there's a knack to making black shit on your eyes look sexy. And I nailed it baby. But that was one qualification in life she did fail through all those A minuses she got in seventh grade. She wears makeup like a whore does, and I've had plenty of whores in my sweet eighteen years of life.
Well ciao beautiful people, King Urie has to dash. Bye motherfuckers.
The fans have saved me from total self destruction. I mean, what kinda guy doesn't want hundreds of long blonde haired girls screaming their name for hours, begging for autographs and asking for marriage proposals all in one night? If I wanted to, I could have a different girl in my bed every day. But I don't. Not EVERY night. And don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with brown hair. Or short hair. But you get me. Well I hope you do, 'cause my parents sure don't.
They're perfect though, my very own Panic Family, my second family. I wouldn't change them for the world. Oh do go ahead and tell me how cheesy that sounds, I'm rehearsing for the opening night in Vegas. Oh Malayna, you just don't understand. When you leave high school baby, maybe you'll hit the big time too. Or maybe you'll just sit around with your One Direction obsession, fangirling with those stupid 'Belieber' girls after class. Yeah, I don't understand either. She obviously hasn't got her taste of music from me. I guess not everyone can be into alternative rock. or I'd have more blonde girls after me than Hitler.
Why are girls so dramatic? I mean, come on, I like my music. A lot. But do I throw my bras and knickers around when I listen to it? No. Then again, I last wore a bra when I was 12. Having enough man boobage to fit into a 32A is pure embarrassment. How girls cope with massive watermelons bouncing on their chests all the time I'll never know. I'm not complaining though. Curvy girls do it for me just fine. Big breasts, skinny waist, killer legs. Mmm-mmmm. Curvy all the way. A girl without DDs is a man. A girl with anything bigger is a fake, and also a man. Transvestite. Darling, you need to sort yourself out. Don't try to impress a guy if you have no boobies. It never works.
So where was I? Oh yeah, my sister. My 15 year old bitch of a sister. My very own clone, Malayna Urie. She used to be fine before I got it on with Spencer and the gang, and we banged out some awesome tunes. I thought she'd be my biggest fan, she adored me even after she turned double figures. She used to grab onto my legs to stop me walking out to band practice every day. That's before I kicked her in the face, split her lip and knocked out three teeth. Well she ruined my favourite black skinnies, what can I say?
Makeup changes people I guess, I always told her to ask me for eyeliner tips, there's a knack to making black shit on your eyes look sexy. And I nailed it baby. But that was one qualification in life she did fail through all those A minuses she got in seventh grade. She wears makeup like a whore does, and I've had plenty of whores in my sweet eighteen years of life.
Well ciao beautiful people, King Urie has to dash. Bye motherfuckers.
♠ ♠ ♠
Please comment or something, please? :')