Dear the fucking gay diary that Kenny bought me (or probably picked up from a dumpster),
I've been noticing some changes. Some changes that I like, and some changes that quite frankly piss me off.
For example, Kyle wearing skinny jeans and the said boy and Cartman getting closer. Rest assured, I only like one of these developments. You see, Kyle's my boyfriend, and has also been my best friend pretty much my whole life, so when people get too close to who I'm sure 99% sure is the love of my life, I get a little hacked off about it. Who wouldn't?
Especially if the incriminating person is named Eric Theodore Cartman also known as the guy who, up until recently, did his best to make Kyle's life suck and annoyed me a hell of a lot. Well, he still does. Times a billion now. No, I'm not exaggerating.
Over the past few weeks Cartman's been taking Kyle away from me at every opportune moment ("Ooh Miss, me and Kyle wouldn't mind stepping out to get that for you!" and "Hey Kahl, wanna work on that project together as we only know eachother in History class? Let's go to my house and talk about it now!") and it angers me to no flipping end. I never thought I was a possessive boyfriend, I nailed that description onto Kyle when we first started going out, but here I am, basing the whole of my first diary entry on me being suspicious of my boyfriend and enemy's new budding relationship.
But seriously, what the hell is that guy's problem?He hates Kyle more than me, being a racist bastard, so why is he trying to make me jealous? Shouldn't it be the other way round?
Maybe it's because Kyle wouldn't get jealous. You cant be jealous if someone steals away someone you don't really ca-
I guess I'm just being ridiculous now. It's just that Kyle hasn't yet muttered a complaint about Cartman's change of attitude towards him, not a single word, and he seems almost too willing to go off with him all the time. Sometimes he's the one to make plans with the fatass!
I will find out what going on, and put a stop to whatever new scheme Cartman is sporting. I swear it!
And thus ends today's pissed off entry.
Not yours 'cos your mine, Stanley Marsh.
