The Fates Just Love To Fluck With Me, Don't they.

Chapter 1- Boys are Asshats

I didn't always hate guys. Oh no. I used to only hang out with them. I was a "tomboy", according to Mr. Jabba the Hut. He was my Art Teacher in 8th grade. He failed me because I was a sassy little Can't Understand Normal Thinking. I mean, what did he expect. I was better at art than him. I didn't want to just use markers all year. And I told him this (adding a few choice curses) and he failed me. *cough* flucktard *cough*

Ugh. I tend to go off on a tangent. This is not good for anyone. But, getting back to the point. The guy who literally made me want to hack out my teeth with a machete over talking to him was Parker Tuefel (or Truffle as I like to call him). He was this "jock" who was popular, don't ask me how, who had a mullet and looked like a whale (I'm sorry whales). He was such a Jack ass. One time, it was snowing and there was a shit ton of ice (shocker). So this complete douche canoe decided it would be fun to made an ice ball the size of a baseball and lob it at my head. Yep. I was livid.

Making the sound of a sexy chainsaw, I sprinted over to him and shredded his sorry ass. Well, tried. I got eviscerated *cough*.

The next time he pulled something on me, I tried to be ready. I wasn't. He tripped me. You may be thinking

"Oh that's not bad at all!" Or "You're such a wimp. That is sincerely nothing. It happens to me all the time!"

Step aside, peasants. You don't understand. I'm already a clumsy fool, so when someone decides to stick their FLUCKING LIMBS in front of me: it leads to a train wreck. My feet flying out from underneath me as though I had Hermes flying shoes, the bag I was carrying flew up and my body gave the floor a hug. I had smashed my face against the cold linoleum of the filthy school hallway, tasting dirt and bleach. And then my bag decided to obey gravity. It fell on me, with the force of a dozen textbooks.

I 'twas done. Over that whole year I went to school with him, he took advantage of the fact that I took the same bus; was in all the same classes; and that we lived a block from each other.

I think this is a valid reason for hating him. But this bubbling cauldron of hatred I felt for him only spread to other guys. I started to see his qualities in the rest of the male population, from nose picking to farting obnoxiously. From bullying to cheating on exams. I started to hate them ALL.

But, me being me, I had to be proven wrong by none other than a boy named Jeff freaking Matthews.