Thoughts About A Break Up

Yes my sweets, it is true.

Phreddie broke up with her dear boyfriend Nate.

Well, that's not completely true.

He broke up with her.

Kinda.

Long story short he was a sweetheart and didn't want to upset me.

But let's be honest, living in the shadow of a crush (A mutual one at that) wears you down.

And seriously, chicks are waayyy better anyway, am i right ladies?

So here are the thoughts I had during and after my break up (which occurred three days ago) as told by Robert Downey Jr. gifs.

Oh he did not just say he lost interest in me

He actually said "I just think we're both losing interest" but we know what he meant.

Again, trying to be easy on me.

Either that, or doesn't want to get his ass kicked by Phrank.

I just wrote that really long text about still being friends and loving him platonically blah, blah.

And he's asking me to break it to Phrank in a way that won't make him seem bad.

Who said chivalry was dead?

For real though, this made me so angry.

At least I can flirt with girls again.

Funny story, he and I have a crush on the same girl.

And I no longer have to watch the walking dead!

Not that I was really watching it.

I'm like half way into the second episode.

It's boring.

And I don't have to pretend I'd like his box.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, I have three words for you:

Ignorance is bliss.

No more sexual pressure, yay!

He didn't really put sexual pressure on me, I did.

Which is a whole other post for a later date.

But... I'm single

But it's ok, because life goes on.

And there might be someone who likes me (Hehe, the same girl he likes. not to be revenge-y or anything)

And I'll always have Dramacon.
Ahhh, Dramacon.

So yeah, all in all, it wasn't so bad.

It was a good first relationship.

But now I'm really ready for a second.

Someone make out with me.

Bye, bye my loves!

until next time

- Phrank McSparrow

Labels

So last night I went bowling with my favorite people (minus Le Copain) instead of going to our youth group which is on hold till next wednesday.

It was fun, although I wanted to cry when I said something too loud and pissed off another bowler.

Whoops.

No one cares.

Anyway, on the 2-3 minute ride through my apartment complex with my friend (whom I'll call Angel) about labels.

Which is something I've always gotten mixed up about a lot in the past year or two.

Jumping between labels I put on myself (emo, lesbian, weird, introvert, bisexual, scene, etc.) which were sometimes wrong, sometimes right. 

And labels I felt like other people gave me (Scary chick, know it all, asshole, creeper, etc.).

I never really had a real way to describe myself.

I tend to find myself in the middle of a spectrum when the names I should use are fairly black and white.

I know I'm bisexual/pansexual, that's fairly easy.

But when I come to things like introvert or extrovert, outgoing or quiet, happy or sad, things are never so black and white.

Which isn't a problem with me.

Until I someone asks which I am.
It's not a very common topic to come up when I talk to my friend in person, but online people often try to understand who you are by how you describe yourself.

And it gets me thinking I should probably be somewhere on this spectrum, where am I?

But I can never figure out where I am.

But the more I think about it, I really don't know of anyone that I know well that I can label.

I can say Phrank is a pretty quiet girl, but that's only true if you don't know her.

I can say Nate is loud and kinda annoying (I love him for it, but still), but he can also be sweet and quiet.

On a larger scale, up until about a month ago I would have said Angel was a cis girl, but as I got more into LGBTQ rights and learned more (especially from her) I learned she was androgynous (She can correct me if I'm wrong) and sometimes feels like a girl, a boy, both or neither.

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this post except with some very good advice I got on that car ride to my apartment from that amazing friend of mine:

Don't label yourself.

Do/like/wear/say/be whatever or whoever you want.

But don't label yourself.

Because you won't regret doing it as much as trying to label it.

I'll expand on that a bit by saying when you try to label who you are, you subconsciously (or consciously even) try to fit yourself into that label.

And that's gonna hold back who you really are.

Forget who people tell you you are, or even who you tell yourself you are.

Because you're a lot more than that.

The only label you should give yourself is "Fucking Awesome"

Because that's the only one you'll always fit into completely.

So with that said, I'm gonna go do my makeup, play some video games, maybe watch MLP and hopefully have an excuse to punch someone in the face.

Try to figure me out from that sentence BITCH.

- Phrank McSparrow

Moral Of The Story, Never Go On Omegle

CAUTION:

This post contains material probably not appropriate for the eyes of small things.

Also, if you are Phrank's sister, you have been warned to not ever speak of this.

ever. 

So today I was super bored with no one to talk to.

 So I was like "I have a brilliant idea, I'll go on omegle" 

So there I am with "likes" such as "Doctor who" or "sherlock" or "mlp" 

Then suddenly I get connected with some dude cause we both have doctor who on our interests.

 I'm on video chat because you know, REASONS

 (No, not those reasons, stop thinkin bout dem reasons)

 And this dude doesn't have video which is a normal thing so I kept talking to him (he claimed to be 17, but ya know he was probably like 12) 

and he starts flirting with me and talking about my hair which is nice cause like, I love my hair and when other people like it it's like awesome.

*uses the word "like" way too much*

 But eventually I was like 

"Bro, I got a boyfriend" 

and he was like "Oh. How big is his dick? :P" 

WHAT THE FUCK MAN?!

 Like, I don't even know about this dude. 

And this is kinda funny so I keep bantering with him cause I'm fucking bored and then he's like

 "You didn't answer so it must be small" 

Bro. 

For real. 

What's your deal? 

So I make a circle with my hand that I don't even know how accurate it was cause like I've only ever seen pictures of his penis, but I did it just to get him to stop. 

And he's like "how long?" And at this point I want to laugh my ass off but I can't cause I got my webcam here staring at me. 

So I was like "I'm not talking to you about my boyfriends penis" 

And I should have seen it coming with how mature he was but he was said "You already have"

I don't even know,

I'm like tired and weirded out but I've done nothing interesting lately so I don't disconnect like I should have.

And so I just say " I'm not telling you any more, it's mine :P" 

Cause at this point I'm past the point of decency and into claiming my boyfriends penis as my own.

Which it is, but shut up.

And so he takes a different approach and says 

"Ok, tell me about you. Are you hairy shaved or waxed?"

And this is where I drew the line.

Not that I disconnected, I was still bored as hell.

And maybe having a little fun.

But there was an awkward exchange of 

Me: "Ima go now"

Omegle Perv: "You should have done that a while ago"

Me: "Yup." *disconnects

So yeah.

Never go on omegle.

- Phrank McSparrow

Snippet Stories: Phred Does Them Too.

So considering I aspire to be a writer, I have no idea how Phrank ended Up being the story teller here.

How ever, I have quite a few stories to share.

And I'm going to share them along with a little commentary.

She Was Gone

She sat down. Her ears were ringing.

 People buzzed around her saying "Are you ok? Whats wrong? Do you needs some water?" 

But she couldn't hear them. 

All she heard was the buzzing. 

All she felt was a sting in the back of her throat. 

Tears started flowing out of her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. 

People were milling around her now, wondering what was wrong.

 Nothing was wrong. 

Everything was wrong. 

She felt every emotion you could feel at once but the strongest one she felt was sadness.

 They were shaking her, telling the others to leave her alone, asking what to do. 

She felt nothing, she saw nothing, she heard nothing.

 She was nothing.

 She cried and cried and cried, and nothing could bring her out of her self induced trance. 

The darkness, the buzzing, the empty feeling of nothing. 

She was sad and alone. 

She was gone.

This was a weird story I wrote a while back.

It's premise is basically the chick is super sad and lonely and in the end I implied she died by saying she was "gone"

Maybe not, it was a long time ago and a feeling I like to forget

He, She And The Boy

She picked up her bag. 

She would leave without talking to him, again.

 The bags strap on her shoulder felt heavier then usual. 

She started walking out the door when She heard a boy yell "Wait, wait!" She turned around hopefully, but it wasn't him. 

It was never him. 

She continued walking out the door when She felt breath on her neck and a mans voice say "Hi."

 And She turned around so fast her face collided with his shoulder. 

He was very tall. 

Wait, this was the wrong he. 

Trying to push the Boy aside she said "Get out of the way. I have to go." 

The Boy's hand shot up to block her. 

She turned around to open the door, but the Boy grabbed her, and yanked her around to face him. "Its been a long time." The Boy said with a wink. 

"Get away!" She exclaimed. 

She reached up to scratch the Boys face, but the Boy grabbed her hands and held them behind her back.

 The Boy's face came down to hers and just before Their lips touched, a fist collided with the Boy's face. 

"Damn." The Boy grunted, putting a hand up to his cheek. 

And He was standing there. 

He had come to rescue her, and He was now pushing the Boy back to the wall. 

"She told you to get out of the way, didn't She?" 

Advancing on Him, the Boy said angrily  "Is it any of your business?" 

And He said  "Yes."

So I know exactly what this one is.

I was writing about a crush of mine and my desire for him to actually care about me.

I'd liked this dude for two years and he hardly even talked to me.

Which was my fault, I never talked to him either, but still.

He would be said boy, I think we've called him Michael before.

She would be myself, as I always carried a big messenger bag.

And the Boy was...

No one, actually.

There was no one who liked me, nor I had a history with at that point, The Boy was a figment of my imagination.

Hm.

Well.

He, She And The Way-Too-Late Phone Call

She rolled over in her bed.

Beep! Beep! Her phone kept saying. 

She glanced at her clock from underneath her comforter. 

2:46. She gave up, and picked up her phone. 

And He was on the other line. 

"What?!" She growled. 

"Look out your window." His voice replied. 

A calm, smooth tone to her agitated babble.  

As always, He was everything to complete her. 

But at 2:47 in the morning, She didn't really feel like completing herself.

 "Why?" She hissed.

 "Its cool." He promised.

 She didn't say anything. 

In fact, She got up and went and got a glass of water to dump over his head if he tried to sing to her at 2:48 in the morning. 

She stepped up to her window, attempting to flatten the mass of tangles she called hair. 

She unlatched the window and opened it. 

She dropped the glass of water, but on the wrong side of the window. 

Her mouth fell open as She saw the scene in front of her.

 How could He have done this without her knowing? 

Red and white petals sat on the ground in the shape of a heart, A red blanket in the middle of it, A lovely picnic spread out on the blanket surrounded by candles.

 And the best of it all, was He was sitting on the blanket, pouring her a drink.

So this one was completely my imagination, although it is really sweet.

I wouldn't mind if my boyfriend did that.

But, ya know, I don't want my parents to know, so screw that.

Phred Was Really Depressed

She was beyond lonely. 

She was the sole existing thing on the planet in her mind and that hurt more then anything else ever could. 

She had to sit and know that when she got up, and went outside there would be nothing.

 No children playing, no friends hanging out, not even dysfunctional family's screaming at eachother.

 Just silence. 

Silence so loud it mad your ears throb and your stomach churn.

 It was like the rock concerts she attended before she was stripped of everything and everyone that mattered.

 And that didn't, for that matter.
 She would gladly take it all back, all the pain and the anger and the fury at everything if it meant she didn't have to feel this burning sadness.

 This sadness so strong she would rather fall over and die. 

Pick up a gun and just end this stabbing misery that followed her around like a mask over her head right before she was executed. 

She saw nothing anymore , she heard nothing, felt nothing, nothing could break through this self induced trance she had gone into since it all happened.

 Maybe those children were playing. 

It didn't matter, she couldn't see them. 

Maybe those friends were hanging out. 

It didn't matter, she couldn't talk to them.

 Maybe that family was throwing things and screaming bloody murder, but she could no longer hear anything but her own ringing misery. 

She would hate it, but she couldn't.

 All she could do was be sad that it hadn't found someone else to haunt, because no matter how hard she tried all she could feel was sadness.

 Nothing else came to her but the tired sadness. 

She would welcome back the anger if she could. 

But all she could feel was sadness. 

Misery. 

All other emotions had drained away. 

Soon, the sadness would drained away as well, taking her with it.

Yeah, lets pretend this one never happened....
(This was not about me, I was never that far gone)

Phred Wrote This For Her Boyfriend/Phred Is No Longer Naming Her Stories

She Slowed her pace when she reached the woods.

She rested a moment before pulling the box she had hidden 3 weeks ago out of the hollow tree.

Three weeks since she last saw him.

Nearly a month they'd been together and she'd seen him only once.

She wanted to feel him next to her.

To see him smile & laugh & hear his stupid voice tell her to shut up.

She wanted to see the dumb red & black shirt he always wore.

She wanted to have him tease her about not having a life.

She wanted him to be here.

With her.

But it'd be a long time before she could see him again.

She'd wait, though.

Because having him for a few hours would be just enough until she could see him again.

Feel his hand intertwined with hers.

Hear his stupid jokes, stupid voice.

See him slouch and be ticked he doesn't stand straight.

She'd pretend she hates it.

But she doesn't.

She loves all those things about him.

Because they are what made him, him.

She opened the little box.

The only thing inside was a small slip of paper that read:

"I love you"

And she knew he was worth the wait.

So this one is completely true except for the box and the note.

They are more of an actual item that in reality are my thoughts.

Remembering every time he said he loved me, and that I was pretty.

But other than that (Right down to the red and black shirt that he seriously wears all the time) It's all true.

Everything I say I hate but actually love.

This one I wrote today.

All of the others were at least 6 months ago.

So things do get better.

And not necessarily because of a boy, you feminists.

But sometimes boys help. 

I'll probably be writing another post in the next few days, until then I've decided to return to signing off with pictures that relate to said post:

- Phred McSparrow

(P.S. Phrank, if you're reading this on the day I post it- the 14th- please tell Nate I say goodnight and I love him, but not to text me. Thank ya, dear.)

A Change Of Scenery

So I've noticed that lately all of our posts have had SOMETHING to do with romantic relationships, one way or another, so I've decided to write a completely different(before I inevitably go write a gooey romance post) I'm writing a post about...

OLD PEOPLE!!

Yep. The awesome oldies. So for the past month or so my dad has been volunteering at a local nursing home to teach them watercolor painting(which my dad is pretty beastly at). I've recently begun going with him and helping out, a.k.a. letting them do a little then doing most of the work for them, then letting them believe they did it and telling them you love it. It's very satisfying. I'm going to tell you a couple of stories about them and a little about who they are, and because they're nice old people who probably don't care, I'm not changing names. I'll start with Miss Margret. Miss Margret is a hoot, She's always wearing a big hat and lots of Marti Gras style beads and carrying a little wallet/purse thing around as she wheels around in her wheel chair. We painted impressionist roses one week, and dad said "alright, just do some squiggley lines a somewhat of a circle." and naturally Miss Margret did lines in what could only be the most un-circular manner possible, but she's so sweet you just have to answer 'it's perfect' when she asks how you like it. I'm running short on fumes, so I'll just tell you about one other awesome oldster before I sign out. Her name is Miss Virginia, and she's not even a resident at the home. According to the nurses, her husband and son died there, and her daughter is a current resident,  but she won't live there. She comes by three times a day and eats every meal there, and now takes our painting class. She'd probably got the best actual skills of the group of oldies, aside from one man. She's adorable. 

Well folks, that's all for now. 

 bye

Love Love,

Phrank Mc.

Phred Lies A Lot

So as I said in a previous post I have a boyfriend now.

What I might not have said was that neither of us are telling our parents.

So when I was having a casual convo with Le Copain when suddenly I get a text
I'm going to tell this story in a color code, and it goes like this (Take me by the tongue and I'll.... no one?)
Red - Nate/My boyfriend's texts
Dark Purple - My texts
Orange - My irrational mind
Blue - My rational mind
Light Purple - This is me being the narrator
And we begin.

I love you <3
I love you too <3
And then I get this text
Are you Nate's girlfriend.
WHAT THE EFFING EFF DO I DO???
Lie, duh.
BUT WHAT DO I SAY??
Act confused.
Hm?
Are you Nate's girlfriend? (HIS MOTHER)
Um, no.
SHE WON'T BELIEVE ME, SHE WON'T!!
Calm down, just wait for the reply.
Lol it's me i'm just fucking with you.
Exactly what my mother would say. WHAT DO I DO?!?!
Call him, obviously.
BUT WHAT IF HIS MOM PICKS UP?
Then hang up.
So I called him.
Hahaha, ha ha! I got you!
YOU LITTLE
Then I hung up.
The funny thing is I knew exactly what to do if it really had been his mom.
I knew the exact lies I would tell and the story I would use.
Yup, Phred lies.
A lot.
What is your best lying story?
Tell us in the comments.
Until next time

- Phred McSparrow

The Story Of How Phred Got A Boyfriend

Gather 'round children, and let me tell you a tale of impossible things.

Once upon a time there lived an awkward geek named Phred.

Phred was a strange young girl.

She played video games, wrote books and songs and poetry, scoured the internet all day and went to school at home.

She had many friends that were boys, most of them much older than her.

She liked some of them, including a boy 6 years older than her.

One day he asked her if she liked him.

She told him the truth.

He rudely exclaimed "I knew it!" and told her he didn't feel the same way.

Phred was sad and scared to ever tell a boy she liked him again.

Then along came a boy named Nate.

Nate was cute and funny, but sometimes mean to Phred.

He didn't mean to be, but sometimes Phred felt like he hated her.

Phred liked Nate a lot, but she couldn't tell him that.

She liked to talk to him, and at camp they talked a lot.

They walked together and talked a lot.

Phred told Nate something she'd never told anyone before, not even Phrank.

But when she told Nate's friend Anna she liked him, Anna told her he didn't feel the same.

Phred acted like she didn't care, even though it hurt her a lot.

Camp went by, and the more Phred liked Nate, the less she thought he liked her.

Then one day, a few weeks after camp, very late at night Nate asked Phred something Phred didn't want to answer.

He asked her "Do you like me?"

Phred was in a dilemma.

Should she lie to Nate and not get hurt? 

Or should she tell the truth?

After some contemplating, she told him yes, but she knew he didn't like her.

But Phred was wrong.

Phred was very wrong and for the past few days Phred has been in a happy blur with her new boyfriend, Nate.

Will they live happily ever after?

Only time will tell.

But rest assured, Phred will tell you all what she has to share.