When LAMM8 was born, she was healthy and funny. But like all young, fun new things she grew old.
With age she became crusty and dehydrated. She was stubborn and cynical, and preached her hate and boredom to everyone that sparingly sat with her.
She remembered the days of fame and praise. The excitement and empowerment of her glory days now a perished and futile elastic waistband on the boxer short that represents her life (in this metaphor I, the writer/blogger have just created).
Self centred and serving; blind and vain the bitch couldn't help herself to quick pleasures and cheap thrills now. Drinking excessive Ribena and masturbating like she had only just discovered the phenomenon, she endured long drawn out weekdays of sickening miserable come downs from her methampetamine addiction.
It was not until Look At Me M8 woke one night with a vision (maybe it was real) of a sandwich standing at the end of her bed that things had to change.
Look At Me M8 is back and will have blog entries again. Cool.