Um. What.

Day four the parentals.

I know I did a bit of a cop out with yesterdays blog but that is just going to have to happen again. My parents are not something I really want to talk about online. That just seems kind of weird to me. So instead I will share a little peice i wrote today, basically me and a friend of mine were fbook chatting and he mentioned something along the lines that we should write a musical. People say this all the time without it ever going anywhere so I proposed we just write a monologue for the day just for a little workshop experience. I told him I was up to write for anything. He chose the subject of trannys and I chose the subject of school shootings.

DISCLAIMER: If you have any sort of transphobia please turn back now.

The day you wake up knowing you aren't coming home is a very good day. The day you wake up knowing you are going to kill a man is a great day but, the day you wake up knowing you are going to kill a man while dressed in your true female form is the best fucking day anyone could ever have. At 7 a.m. I am fully awake and just getting dressed. Today though I'm gonna be different. Today I'm going to be normal. Today I am going to be me. I put on my favorite shade of lipstick: "Cover girl's TEMPT 355" and my 300 dollar wig I recently purchased offline. Reminds me of a cross between Uma thurman and britney spears. I look at myself in the mirror. Beauty true and honest. I see myself as I really am. A woman. A women who is all dressed up with somewhere to go but then it hits me; without my pistol I'm only half dressed. I put it Inside my empty vutton knockoff handbag and get on my bike. God forbid I have a real car but I don't know what it is about harley's I have always loved them . Just picture it 8:15 am. A supposed man in a dress walks into your classroom. Shock and awe. That was the look on all those idiots faces. Shock and awe. My teacher said something but I couldn't hear him. I couldn't hear anything I only saw and what I saw was the most disgusting site I had ever seen. A 50 something old fucking man looking down the chamber of a gun and not even making a god damn move. Then I give him the ol up down and in my greatest cliché movie voice I say, I say to him: Schools out Mr. Caldwell. And that's the day I shot my father