I know. I KNOW, okay? I haven't updated in like months. And I'm deeply sorry for all of my 'fans' that I guess I have… especially to the ones that have been PM'ing me and begging for an update. Well, to put it short, I don't have that good of an excuse except I've had my school's play practices like crazy… I got the part of Ursula in the play Bye Bye Birdie if anyone knows who/what that is. YAY ME. I'm proud of myself.
Um, someone asked about my boy situation, I believe? My ex… I won't talk about it. But my best friend… the guy, you know? Welllll, he finally broke up with his girlfriend, and when he was visiting last week, we went to the movies just to hang out, and ended up awkwardly kissing and it was so freaking cute, but I don't think we'll be able to date cause of distance. It's sad. He's a total Oliver Oken. And we all want Olivers. Or at least Mitchel Mussos. Bwahaha.
Er, anyways, here's the long awaited new chapter. I don't think it's that great, but I needed to update so bad. I've seen some Oliver stories around here… and I got jealous of the attention people were getting. And I didn't even think they were that great. Boooo.
So let's hope you all still love me!
(P.S. I'm making it that Oliver's parents are divorced... no idea if that's true... Sorry.)
DEAR STUPID
Monday, December 24th, My Room, 2:30 p.m.
Dear Stupid,
MTV called Miley this morning.
They want her and I to be on "Engaged and Underage".
Dear God. (No, that doesn't mean I renamed you, Stupid. No offense. God's a lot bigger than a little notebook like you. Again, no offense. He's just really big and stuff.)
I vomit on this idea. Everywhere on it. I COVER IT IN MY THROW-UP!!!!
Er. Lilly's here, and she just looked at that last bit. She said, "I cover you in my throw-up, Oliver. Honestly. You are an idiot deserving of my upchuck."
Which is kind of mean in my opinion. I don't think anyone deserves to be covered in Lilly's upchuck.
Except maybe Jerk Rat… but whatever, he kinda already is covered in upchuck, but not Lilly's… I don't think…
I said to Lilly, "I'm not an idiot." Lie. I totally am.
Lilly goes, "Well, I guess you finally get your dream come true."
I say, "What?"
And she says all dramatically, clasping her hands together, and completely googly-eyed, "You are gonna be Mr. Hannah Montana at long last!!!" And she just ran out of the room, probably because I am about to shove my pencil here down her throat. But then again, Stupid, if I did that, you wouldn't know how the rest of yesterday played out. Until I got another pencil or pen, that is… but yeah.
It sucked. That's how to describe it in a sentence. It. SUCKED. Yes. Giant vacuum cleaner suckage actually. Well, really, more like BLACK HOLE SUCKAGE!!! Yeah!
Since Miley was passed out from my nationwide proposal, the press leapt on top of me, and that little Lexie girl from earlier was all screaming and waving her CD, like, "I GOT HANNAH MONTANA'S HUSBAND'S AUTOGRAPH!!!!" and stuff.
I didn't know what to do.
Jake was standing there like he was gonna turn into a nasty version of the Hulk and rip my head off my neck. So was Miley's dad.
So, due to my amazingness, I fainted, too.
Woke up in the Hannah Montana trailer. Lilly was staring down into my face, so I got my pants scared off and about passed out again.
She slapped my face to a burning degree. In fact, ow, it still hurts.
Lilly's back in here. She wants to write something, hold on.
IT BETTER HAVE HURT YOU DONUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
… Okay, and here I thought she was actually writing something meaningful cause it took her so long to write. I guess she was just perfecting the hearts she used as exclamation points, but whatever.
Anyways, so Lilly said to me last night, "You are seriously OUT OF YOUR MIND!"
I was very much offended. "No, I'm not. That phrase makes no logical sense," I said.
"Says the boy who calls Jake Ryan Jerk Garbage," she replied. Okay, that's it, I'm switching to script form.
Me: Shut up, he is a wormy pile of worm dung, and you know it.
Lilly: I'm going to pretend you didn't honestly just say that, and hit you again.
Me: What do you mean hi-(is hit) OW! What was that for?!
Lilly: For ruining Hannah Montana's career!
Me: HEY! You can't tell me the press actually bought that marriage crap!
Lilly: Oh, but I can, dumb one.
Me: Dumb one?!
Lilly: Yes! Dumb one!
Me: You are unbelievable.
Lilly: YOU'RE unbelievable! Marriage at sixteen! Who'd have thought THAT?
Me: Hey, at least it's not Jerk Garbage that she's marrying. Miley and I will be happy together!
Lilly: YOU ARE NOT MARRYING MILEY!
Me: … Oh yeah.
Lilly: I don't know what you are gonna do, boy.
Me: Go back to sleep?
Lilly: (hits me)
Me: (cry)
Lilly: (glare)
Jackson: (blink)
Oh yeah, Jackson walked in. I suck at script writing.
Jackson: You know, having you as a brother-in-law is gonna be kinda weird.
Lilly: JACKSON!
Jackson: Well, it is!! Not to mention that Hannah Montana will be, like, ruined. I mean, can you imagine – (imitating radio DJ voice) "Here's 'Life's What You Make It', the latest from Hannah Olive!"
Me: Hannah Olive isn't so bad. It could be worse, like, Hannah Ryan.
Lilly: OH MY GOD, you two are HOPELESS! I'm just going to sleep! (storms off)
Me and Jackson: (silence)
Me: So, where's Miley?
Jackson: She said something about jumping off a cliff. (shrug)
And then I went to her room in the trailer, and she refused to let me come in because I'm a "life-ruiner" I guess and she was "too busy hanging herself to care" or something. Her dad was sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him up because I wanted to postpone my death as much as possible soo…
Miley continued avoiding me the morning after… I don't know how I fell asleep. Lilly here doesn't think she snores. Isn't she funny! Ha, stupid grizzly bear.
I need to call Miley again. But Lilly says that knocking on her door six times, texting her thirteen times, and calling her twenty-eight times without her answering any of those things sounds obsessive. But I told her that the twenty-ninth time is the charm. She stuck her tongue out at me and walked out the door.
Oh great, I have basketball practice now. ON CHRISTMAS EVE!!! WHO DOES THIS?!?! CRACKHEAD COACH, CRACKHEAD COACH!
Oh, this also means I get to endure the worm-rat's face for a couple hours. And the Big Ham's. God still hates me. And it's CHRISTMAS EVE!!!!
Stupid, if you ever grow ligaments, do me a favor and grab a gun and pull the trigger while aiming at my temple. I really don't want to live at the moment.
Monday, December 24th, My room again, 6:18 p.m.
Dear Stupid,
I hate basketball. And Dr. Harms.
And the fact that I just realized again it's Christmas Eve and that I don't have a present for Miley. My own freaking fiancé!!! I am already proving to be the worst husband ever!! Our kids are gonna hate me like the way I sometimes feel about my dad, and then Miley and I will be divorced, which will suck because um, hello, I love her, and then our kids are gonna be like, "I wanna live with Mom because she's richer and gives sweet presents!" And then they'll be forced to spend holidays with me, and I'll have to endure extreme awkwardness when Miley and I meet up at some grocery store parking lot for her to give me the kids like Mom and Dad are gonna do tomorrow!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!
Er. Getting way ahead of myself.
So… about me hating basketball practice… I had to run way too much. I think Coach believes the more we run, the better our dribbling and shooting ability will become. Um, what crack he is smoking is beyond me, and I don't want any of it either if that is seriously what goes through his head about running. This is why you don't do drugs, Stupid. It will mess up your ability to think logically, like poor Mr. Crackhead Coach!
Well, I guess me doing drugs wouldn't do a whole lot of harm being I can't think logically for crap anyways. I mean, I just recently told America I'm getting married to Hannah Montana. I have problems without crack as it is.
Anyways, I had to run pretty fast at practice, too, because I didn't want to be the last one to the end of the gym. And I had to beat Jake every time. It's an ego thing, I guess.
But when we got a minute long break, I heard the worm say something very interesting to some of the other basketball players, including the Big Ham.
"So, you know how Hannah Montana's engaged?" he was saying, sweating like a very gross pig I'd like to kill. Weird how that's what he actually is!!!! Er… anyways, continuing with Jerk Rat's little rant, "Well, she won't be for long. I hear she's way into me. I heard her talking on her cell phone the other night to one of her friends about how much she loves me."
It is truly disgusting to hear his voice anymore. And with him talking about how he wants to cheat on the girl of my dreams, yeah, his voice should probably just be made illegal before I puke myself to death.
"That's not what I heard," I muttered to myself.
"What'd you say, Oken?"
Oh yeah. The word 'shit' came to my mind, too.
"Ummmmm," I considered the possibilities of having Jake and all his senior friends tearing my face inside out. "Nothing."
"Nuh-uh," he walked over to stand in front of me. I leaned down on the bench and pretended to tie my shoe like a wimp... because Stupid, I really am, but shhh. Lilly would make fun of me for years if she found out! "You said Hannah Montana wasn't into me. How would you know?"
"I'm her fiancé, you dirt bag; so get your wormy hands off of her!!!!!!! And stop trying to cheat on Miley with herself!!!!! For one, um, YOU ARE SCUM!!! Two, how about you do the world a favor and GO EAT SOME GARBAGE OUT OF THE BIN YOU CRAWLED OUT OF AND CHOKE ON A PEPSI CAN!!!!" I screamed.
…. Okay, I'm lying. But what I really said was pretty good, too.
"Hannah Montana wouldn't go for someone who's already dating someone," I said slowly, already wanting to bite my tongue off so it would quit working. "She's better than that. And you know, talking about how you're trying to cheat on Miley right in front of me, her BEST friend, isn't a good idea."
He kicked my shin. Really hard. I'm icing it at the moment…. No, Stupid, don't make fun of me! I don't need a blankie or a pacifier. I'm not a baby!
"Don't be a girl, Oken."
I stood up at that, despite my shin throbbing the way it was, looking slightly up into his glaring eyes.
"How about you don't be an asshole to someone I care about, Ratface."
RATFACE. WHAT THE HELL! I AM A GIRL! WHO SAYS THAT!!!!!!! Except me, obviously, but it's not supposed to leave you, Stupid! Lilly already knows. She's probably told Miley. But still! AHH!
And just as he was about to punch me in the face, Coach whistled and announced the end of practice. I thank the crack. For once.
I pretty much turned into Speedy Gonzales and got out of there and to Dr. Harms as fast as I could. As much as I hate seeing Dr. Harms, I figured nothing could be worse than my life at the moment, so what was it going to hurt, you know?
Oh, well, I'm wrong. The fact we actually had an appointment scheduled on Christmas Eve was bad enough, but almost the minute I walked in the door (all out of breath because I was running in case Jerk Rat would pop out from behind a corner or car or bush or something and bite me with his rat teeth and give me rabies), Dr. Harms shoved a piece of paper in my face.
"Well, hi to you, too," I said meanly, grasping it.
"Calm down, Oliver, I'm not the one who caused your bad day," she said all peacefully and crap like she actually wanted to be here on Christmas Eve.
"Oh really?" I spat. "For a psychiatrist, you're not very smart sometimes. I think you missed the class on NOT TO MAKE APPOINTMENTS ON CHRISTMAS EVE."
She looked at me from over her glasses. It pisses me off whenever she does this. It makes me wonder why she even has the little things on her nose when she can give just as snobby looks as she does without them.
"Read the paper, Oliver."
I grumbled at first, but then I looked at the paper.
'DYNAMITE DONUTS. HELP WANTED.'
YEAH – ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME?!
"What the hell is this?!" I exclaimed.
"You need a job…and now a good mouth wash of soap."
I hate her.
"Dynamite DONUTS? Do you understand why I cannot work there! A donut shop?! DONUT? That's my freaking… name!"
"Donut Oken?"
"OH MY GOD!" I yelled. "You seriously don't understand!"
"It'd be a great opportunity for you. And don't you always say how low on cash you are?"
I'd bore you if I went into detail of the rest of our stupid pointless argument, but basically, psychiatrists have some Jedi mind trick crud that makes you agree to go to an interview at places with the title of DYNAMITE DONUTS.
Oh, crap. I have to be over at the wife's…okay, fiancé…FINE! MILEY'S house in like, ten minutes… We're exchanging gifts with Lilly…
Oh, that's right. I have nothing to give Miley. I have already ruined her whole life. Now I have no Christmas gift to give her. She will never love me in return after this.
Unless I give her that silver necklace I was going to give Becca a bazillion years ago, confess my love to her, and it's so sweet that she falls into my arms, and we kiss under the mistletoe, and live happily ever after.
Oh my God. That's it.
I have to do it.
Oh my God.
I'm going to tell Miley I love her.
In five minutes.
Lord help me.
AHHH. Such suspense! I wonder if Oliver is actually going to tell Miley he loves her? And how this whole marriage thing is going to play out… Bwahaha, Christmas Day entry will be coming asap. I can't say it'll be soon 'cause that'd be a lie. So for now, review and maybe you'll rush me along.