I fuggin hope so...oh but for how long, how long.
I HATE her.
Oh how long before she "does infect my eyes" the poisonous little spongebacked toady mouldy biscuit (cookie in American Engurlish).
She is a bottled spider. And that just isn't sanitary. Flush her down the loo is what I say...that'll be fuking purrrfect for her and her shaggin' "water round a soddin' rock" analogies...btw that's been really bugging me for a while (kinda like I imagine scabies would bug a really infected individual) THAT WATER ANALOGY DOESN'T EVEN PHUCKING WORK OUT...well not on the basis of sound logic that is. Water annhialates rock...which, more to the point is like that, insipidly seeming, yet ultimately truly poisonous bit-kah Cilli, 'I look more stupider (oh please I bet you, I bet you Julius Cesar's socks she'd use the faux pas that is the double positive as readily as I kick Pilchard Face in the legs whenever I walk behind him...Oh but it's so FUNNY to watch him stagger...HA, a supposed, big brave blackbelt and he's all scared of liddle ol' me, HA!) because I try to be more cleverer than I is really.'Barnes.
How long will it be before we're subjected to yet more fuggin Audry...don't get me wrong I like Audry Hepburn as much as the next disturbed person on the street, but there's something about insipid Cilly that leaves me feeling mentally raped.
She tells me she'll leave, and my hopes are all raised up, like greasetea when I wear white undies, but unlike gt it never lasts long and she's back like the sodding clap!
My bone of contention (well, one of them, at least..."oh gweasy, gweasy your gurliwurly fwend was meanies to me and dwove me all away, she wasn't called cindewella ven but I knows in my hearts of wittle heartsies it was twuly her..." I mean that's sodding slander, surely?!
Oh Cilli, if you read this you deformed waterchestnut...please please please go kill yourself with an axe? PLEASE!
Did I mention, by the way, that I really do hate you? I'm sure I must have, but tell me...was it clear?