Teenyboppers are going to take over the world. Not with their horrible pop music, not because jesus says so (i asked her, she doesn't), certainly not because of their brains. Because of their mutant super powers.
It is all because of tanning booths. I have pale skin - oh my, how gawth - and the sun hurts me. I will never, ever, EVER visit a tanning...box...thing. I cannot possible imagine the benefits of lying under active radiation for half an hour. Why? WHY?
Well, at two o'clock this morning, I figured it out. They are planning to take over the world. They are storing up radiation in their heads and stomachs, until one day POW, ZAP, BZZT, FRYFRYFRY! There will be legion upon legion of perfectly-tanned, miniskirt-wearing, bug eyes girls with crackling blue hands. They will lock us in rooms and force us to listen to Avril and Britney 'till our eyes explode and our brains dribble out of our ears.
If anyone needs me, I will be at my local mall. I'm the girl with the sledghammer.

The long and painful saga of Kelly G

I am afraid of cars. I can hear your cries from here - We are teenagers! Cars are our lifeblood! They are the missing link! Why, oh why? The horror!
Shut up. I hate you.
About half way through last year - I think - some drunk moron RAN OVER the front of my car. Okay, not MY car, but the car in which I happened to be seated. It was on Easter Friday and I remember getting out of the smooshed remains of the car and looking at Marz' phone and it said, in place of the usual 'Telstra' logo, 'drive safe'.
Oh, the pathetic irony. Now, back to the car-crash story.

We were, at the time, driving a 1978 Datsun 120y. The person who hit about an inch away from my poor, defenceless legs was driving a HUGE monster FWD Toyota 4runner complete with massive, child-crushing bullbar. The guy driving was WAY over the legal driving-limit alcohol thing.
I wasn't hurt - a little bruised, yes, but not broken - but I was shaken up. In a big way. I can BE in a car, but it scares the living hell out of me.
This beg's the question, do I get a license? I have a shiny green L-platers licence (complete with horrendous stoned-looking photo) that tells me I can drive with someone aged over 21 with a full licence. My father wont take me, he is busy with his life, but he sighs and tells me that maybe we can afford the semi-expensive driving instructor I want. I do want to learn to drive. I come from a car-crazy family. I know how to change a tire/the oil/the water/a blown gasket. However, the point of getting instructored lessons is to get your full, Im A Big Kid Now licence. This scares me. I don't even think I would be safe on the road on my own. I am quick to take vengance on people and I hate waiting. I refuse to drive an SUV or a huge FWD thing, or anything with a bullbar. I'll be crushed. They will find my lifeless pancake body in the middle of a roundabout. They will! I know it!

Mummy, why is that girl laughing?

I heard a little kid say that once. Pointing to me. I couldn't help thinking oh, yeah, point and stare, girly. I'm not the one with icecream on my forehead.
Okay, off point. The fact is, I think I was laughing at some little fluro-green furry blob thing on a string in Target. I find things like this unacountably amusing. It has gotten me into trouble at times, too.

Me: *sobbing in uncontrolable hysterics on the floor of the petshop* Oh, man, that puppy looks like it's wearing a toupee...oh, man...hahahahaha....woo...
Blond salesgirl bitch: That's it, i'm calling the police*

I laugh at everything. People are so funny. The things they do - those girls who walk around in the middle of winter in three-inch heels, thigh-length belts...I mean, skirts and backless frontless strapless sequined tops, especially - make me laugh. My principal makes me laugh, particularly at innapropriate intervals. Little kids make me laugh, because they are small and occasionally fluffy.
Muffins make me laugh. 'Jesus loves you' bumper stickers make me laugh. Ppl who speek/tipe liek thys mayke me retch, then laf. John what Howard makes me laugh.
So rest assured, if you ever see me pointing and giggling, I'm laughing at you, not with you.

*Actual event may not have happened.