(A/N): Sorry for the mini-hiatus. I lost inspiration for a while, so please forgive this sucky installment. This isn't my favorite chapter, but it concludes one month of the fast so that's cool. Enjoy everyone and R&R!

Review Replies

person: Hey! Don't worry, that will never get boring. Thanks so much, and don't worry, I understood. Lol, then I should get a bunch more wishes 'cuz this story is going to be long! Lol right? I just got my hair braided, so it shouldn't be too much of a retard now. Lol, we all have our little quirks. Lol. Oooh, sothat's why you needed a dictionary. Haha okay. Lol well, you could always repeat what the commenters said. Lol it's okay about the split and click here thing. I'll give you 100 Bloom Points just for reviewing. Hehehe!

ppgrox: Lol, glad to see you're back! And Bloom thanks you for your support!

Disclaimer: The Powerpuff Girls and any other franchises used belong to their respective owners. I own nothing.

(C) Bloom, and any other OC's as well as the plot and screen names belong to me.

My Boy fast Blog

Who Do You Think You Are?

September 29th, 2010: Wednesday

Helloooooo everyone! Welcome to another installment of Life According to Bloom: The Boy Fast Blog Of Epic Proportions! I'm actually surprised at the amount of "OMG I luvs it!11!one!1!exclamationpoint!" or "-gasp- totally epic title!" and stuffz I got for that.

Anyway, in the last chapter, many of you were rooting for me to try out for the dance team and I just want to thank you all for your support. Tryouts are on October 28th, 2010 from 3:30 to 5:30 [it might be longer depending on the number of applicants], so if you're in or near the Townsville area, come out and watch!

Many of you had questions pertaining to advice and splits [sickos] so I'm just going to answer them quickly.

Advice: I may do advice depending on the problem.

Split: Yes, I can do a split, but I will not do one for you. Sickos.

Now that that's over with, I can finally start the blog entry!

[Cue cheers and applause]

As one month of the boy fast draws to a close, I've learned a couple of things:

1. My family and friends are more supportive than I give them credit for.

2. I don't give a lot of credit.

3. Monsters haven't attacked in almost a year.

4. I am a bitch [but I already knew that].

5. Chuck is an asshole [but you already knew that].

6. Venting makes me feel better.

Number three really amazes me. To think that I've been so enthralled with Chuck that I haven't noticed the lack of monster attacks is just so effing amazing!

As for numbers 4 and 5, however… well I'll explain.

And number 6 is more of a theory than anything. A theory that I plan on trying out right now. Now, when I'm pissed off to the point of no return [which I am, right now], I tend to be a bit of a potty mouth [as if you didn't know] and—as you can probably tell from this entry—forget all of my English teaching, sending the idea to use proper grammar, spelling and punctuation back into the deep recesses of my mind [that sentence was just so awkward, I can only hope you understood what I was trying to say]. As a result, the following paragraphs are rated PG-13. Viewer discretion is advised.

THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAD THE NERVE TO CURSE ME OUT!

No wait, I lied.

He didn't just curse me out; he basically degraded and insulted me!

And the funny part? I DIDN'T DO ANY DAMN THING TO DESERVE IT!

God, this had me so fucking pissed that I've been such a bitch to my family and friends all day. I'm so upset that I'm even gonna write what happened withquotation marks!

So, here goes nothing.

-Weird Flashback Music-

It was 7:03am, on a beautiful Wednesday morning. The sun was shining twice as bright, the bird's songs were twice as lively and I was skipping!

It was a beautiful day.

To celebrate it, my sisters and I decided to fly to school today instead of having the Professor drop us off [he likes to drop us off to school. Don't ask]. We lazily flew in the air, taking our time and chatting as if we didn't have a care in the world. We even stopped for ice cream cones on the way there—courtesy of me. We landed in front of the gray building [formally known as Townsville High] at around 7:30am. Once inside, we went our separate ways, Blossom to the lab, Buttercup to the gym, Bubbles to the art room and me to the dance studio. I wanted to practice my dance routine for the audition.

I strolled the halls at a leisurely pace, occasionally licking my ice cream. I was silently singing to the beat in my head when I felt a vibration at the bottom of my bag [no, not that type of vibration. Sickos]. Still walking, I rummaged through my bag to find my cell phone, the source of the vibration. The action hadn't allowed me to watch where I was going, but I wasn't worried. The halls were usually empty at this time of day.

"Ugh, c'mon. where is it?" I grumbled as I dug through my bag for the [accursed] phone. It had stopped vibrating for a couple of minutes, but immediately started back up again. I continued walking blindly, searching for the electronic and my ice cream melting with step, until I bumped into someone. They stumbled back and my [lovely] ice cream cone fell to the ground.

"My shirt!" a male voice yelled. I bit my lip at the sound and came face to face with a white ice cream stain on a very red, very expensive polo shirt. Eyes widening, I reached into my bag and found a pack of tissue. Taking one, I tried wiping at the stain.

"Oh my gosh!" I gasped, rubbing against the stain. "I am so, so sorry."

My efforts were fruitless as I took tissue after tissue and tried to clean the shirt. The shirt was ruined, nothing could be done to save it.

The sound of someone sucking their teeth caused me to look up at what I'd expected to be a very angry shirt owner. To my disappointment, I was right.

Towering over me was Chuck-a red faced, deep breathing, nostril flaring, pissed off Chuck [I would like to say he's hot when he's angry, but he just made me think that his face was what a tomato might look like constipated]. I bit my lip and tried apologizing again.

"Oh man, Chuck I am—" I began, but was cut off.

"Save it," he interrupted, seething. "Why the hell didn't you watch where you were going?" [I hated that saying so fucking much. If you were paying attention, you would've seen me not paying attention and you could've avoided me. Idiot.]

"Well, I was looking for my phone and—"

"Your phone! You ruined my shirt over a fucking phone?"

He growled this at me and I scowled, glaring at his figure. I was trying to apologize and trying not to lose my temper but this bastard was making it really hard.

"You need to calm your ass down. It's just a shirt," I glared.

"It's an original Ralph Lauren polo and costs more than what you're worth."

What.

"It may be expensive but it just got its ass handed to it by an ice cream cone."

"Of course. I wouldn't expect you to understand. You were always a cheap date." [he means the bill for our dates were never high because I never ordered much, not that I can't take a drink and, in turn, he gets laid]

The.

"You were always my least favorite date anyway," he continued, "I'm glad I got rid of your ass. It just sucks that I have to see your face every damn day."

Fuck.

I starting clenching and unclenching my fist and my eyes narrowed even deeper. My breathing became labored and my teeth were being grinded to oblivion.

Then I started laughing, as in a knee-slapping-deep-from-the-belly-laugh that can induce tears.

"Who do you think you are?" I snickered, "Better yet, do you not know who I am? I'm Bloom Utonium. Daughter of a scientist. A Powerpuff Girl. The girl you chased for half a year."

He glared at me and crossed his arms. "You forgot the title 'psycho bitch.'"

That was it. I scowled, red invading my vision.

No one calls me a bitch and gets away with it.

No one calls me a bitch, period.

I smiled menacingly, baring my teeth.

"You wanna know what else I am, you shit-faced bastard?" I growled, "I'm the chick that just knocked you the fuck out."

With that being said, I pulled my fist back and slammed it into his face. I heard a sickening crack and watched as a torrent of blood ran down his face. He fell to the floor and screamed in agony, clutching his nose. I didn't say anything. I walked around him and continued to the dance studio. My scowl deepened with every step I took and my were so narrowed, I could hardly see. When inside the studio, I dropped my bag to the ground and kneeled before it. I dug through it and found the purple touch screen phone that caused so much trouble.

It started vibrating again in my hands.

I threw it at the wall.

[85 comments]

[1] By: NoNoNo

What a dick.

[2] By: ThatsWhatSheSaid

Wow. Bastard.

[3] By: LongHairDontCare

I hate ur phone right now. And Chuck can go to hell.

[4] By: MayTheForceBeWithYou

Now, that whole bitchfest over a shirt was completely stupid on his part.

[5] By: MusicIsMyLife

What an asshole.

[6] By: pogoagogo

Smh.

[7] By: LifeIsSweet

Jerk face!

[8] By: InsertWittyScreenNameHere

He's a bitch.

[9] By: LaLaLandQueen

Wow. He really is a shit-faced bastard.

[10] By: MoneyToBlow

I bet an ice cream cone can kick his ass too.

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