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SATURDAY, AUGUST 31

Sometimes I wonder if my mom is BRAIN FUCKED.

Then there are days when I wish she gets fucked. Like today.

The drama started this morning when I once again asked if she would buy me one of those cool new iPhones 69 that have an amazing camera for selfies. I considered it a necessity of life, second only to maybe clothes.

There isn’t a better way to clinch a spot in the CCH (Cute, Cool and Hot) group at my new private school, Worcestershire Country Day, than by dazzling them with a great selfie toke by a wicked new cell. Last year, it seemed like I was the ONLY student among the girls who doesn’t have a hot selfie in their profile of INSTAGRAM.

So I bought an older, used phone supercheap on eBay with a blurry and opaque lens. It was bigger than what I wanted, but I figured I couldn’t go wrong for the clearance price of only $13.69.

So, the first thing that I did with my new phone was of course use it for take a picture of me. I passed a whole afternoon at my bedroom finding the best angle for a selfie. Literally, I proved my whole wardroom and the entire filters that my phones had. Only for one picture.

When I finally was enough satisfied with the selfie I posted in my Instagram with the caption: “Everyone could now call me with all the JUICY gossip on my NEW telephone!” Then I counted down the minutes before my social life started heating up.

I got really nervous when I received the notification of someone that has commented my picture. It was a CCH girl. I was jumping up and down and doing my Snoopy happy twerking. Until I read the comment.

She said that it looked like Instagram has censured my photo for showing “too much”. What? Ok. Maybe I overused the filter that it really looked like it was pixeled on purpose.

Also I shouldn’t have worn my favorite t-shirt that has the same color of my skin. It made me look like I was posing like I was in my BIRTH SUIT. I was about to make an appellation to explain that I was actually wearing a super cute outfit in the photo, but I never got a chance because, unfortunately, my picture got reported for infringing the politic of Instagram. I got blocked for 3 weeks. But I could see that I lost like 15 followers on page, which really sucked.

The most important lesson I learned last year was that having a fucking CRUDDY phone – or NONE at all – can totally RUIN your social life.

While hordes of celebrity party girls regularly take selfies in front of a mirror with only their index finger for covering. I got banned for not using a camera of quality. This was why I was nagging my mom about buying me an iPhone. I’ve tried saving up my own money to buy one, but it was impossible to do.

Mainly because I’m an artist and TOTALLY ADDICTED to drawing BOOBS! Like, if I don’t do it every day, I’ll get Syncope! And why boobs? Well, it’s art. Don’t judge me. Every artist has his kinky. Also it’s for practice anatomy. I spend ALL of my cash on sketchbooks, pencils, pens, models, and other stuff. I’m so BROKE; I’ll have to sell my body for the cash!

Anyway, when mom came home from the MALL with a special back-to-school present for me, I was pretty sure I knew what it was.

She rambled on and on about how I was entering an age where I will be so stressed and confused with my body, and how my best “coping mechanism” would be to “capture” my “deepest and inner” thoughts and feelings. I was absolutely ECSTATIC because you can capture pictures with a NEW CELL PHONE! Right?! >:( I kind of zoned out on most of what my mom was saying about how somedays my vagina is gonna hurt and all of that, but I didn’t heart her because I was DAYDREAMING about all of the cool outfits I could try for my selfies, and videos I was going to upload. It was going to be LOVE AT FIRST PIC!

But after my mom finally finished her little speech about preservatives and things, she smiled really big, hugged me, and handed me a BOOK.

I opened it and LIKE MAD flipped through the pages, hoping that maybe she had hidden my new cell phone inside.

It made perfect sense at the time because all the advertisements said it was the thinnest model on the market. Isn’t it? But slowly it dawned on me that the BITCH of my mom had NOT gotten me a cell phone, and my so-called present was just a fucking little book! >:( Talk about major MIND-BLOWING!

Then I noticed that ALL the pages of the book weren’t even written.

I was like, OH. No. SHE. FUCKING DIDN’T! My mom had given me two things; a Scumbag DIARY and an irrefutable prove that she IS, in fact, CLINICALLY A DIRTY HOOKER OF THE STREETS!!

Absolutely no one writes their most intimate feelings and deep, dark secrets in a diary anymore! WHY?! Because just one person knowing all your KINKS could completely ruin your reputation.

No, you’re supposed to post this kind of juicy stuff online in your TWITTER. The safest place for the opinions.

Obviously. Only a TOTAL DUMBASS would be caught WRITING!! This is THE worst present I have ever received in my whole life! I wanted to grab my mom by the neck and yell: “Mom, I don’t need a STUPID empty book!!”

What I NEED is to be able to “capture” on pictures my “deepest and inner” parts of my body to share to my friends using my very own cell phone. Wait! Silly me. I keep forgetting. I don’t have anything to share to nobody. YET.

But I’m sure I’ll grow up overnight, and I need to be prepared for my new body with a shiny, new cell!! In the meantime, I will flush this diary in the toilet.

GOODBYE FOREVER!!!