I hate women and I don't know how they think, so this will be the only Bebe chapter.
Because we need more Bebe. Don't take this the wrong way, guys. I like Bebe. She's awesome.
Kyle and I have the same type of hair. It's curly and frizzy without being so tightly coiled. He manages his alright, I guess. On some days it's better than others, when it's not sticking up out of his head. It's a nice color, too – somewhere between auburn and ginger.
My hair is honey blonde, and I used to love the color. Until I realized it matches Kenny McCormick's.
His hair is so sandy and soft and deliciously messy. It's a bit long for my tastes, but the way it frames his face is so choppy and sexy that it's hard not to fucking jump on him. His eyes are such a deep shade of sapphire with an aqua rim, and his bone structure is just fabulous.
Kenny is so toned. He doesn't have defined muscles like Stan, but he isn't skinny like Kyle is. He just has firm muscles and a compact chest. An even, warm complexion that glows almost angelically.
I fucking hate him. I hate him so much that I killed him.
That totally doesn't matter, of course, because the bastard always comes back.
Kenny and I both agreed on a strictly-fuckbuddies relationship. Booty calls and quickies in the janitor's closet. He's sexy but I'm definitely not looking for a relationship, and I'm sure that he's too much of a whore to commit himself either.
Right, yeah. Except that he's a whiny douchebag who has always been more than willing to interrupt our steamy make out sessions to hang out with Butters fucking Stotch.
I was never a priority. Whatever.
We both know our loose relationship only existed because we were both horny as fuck, and masturbation is gross. It was easy, but it hardly worked out.
Do you think I should be upset? I'm not fucking upset. There are other attractive guys within my reach.
Like Kyle Broflovski.
Right, he's gay. "Gay". But dating your friends never works out. You and I both know that. It's almost as bad as the old cliché of dating your opposite-sex-rival.
Do I even have to say it?
No matter what he does, Eric Cartman can't win. Wendy is always bitching about something he's done, and I'm always like "Talk to him about it, not me!" and then she talks about needing to vent and her independence and right and oh my God why don't they just fuck already? There's so much sexual tension between them, it's almost tangible.
Don't get me wrong. I love Wendy. She's my BEST FRIEND. But I don't have to like who she dates. God damn.
Shut up, okay? I'm not a whore. Really. I don't have sex with as many guys as I can just for the thrill, and I don't date them just to break their hearts or screw them over somehow. I'm not a user unless the using is mutual. So don't fucking start with the Bebe's-a-hoe shit, because I'll slam your head against a defibrillator too.
Right, like I was saying. Stan and Kyle aren't going to work out. If I have to start by being Kyle's friend, then whatever. When they start having problems, I'll be there for him. Then he'll get over Stan and shove his tasty Jewish tongue down my throat.
It's not like I'm going to intentionally sabotage them. I'm not Eric Cartman.
Another pointless chapter. Should I go back to Stan posts now?