SONDRA – ENTRY 7 (GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, I’M WATCHING GOLF – JANE LYNCH)

*LEZ BE CLEAR* I’m undiscovered

*AMERICA’S NEXT TOP BOTTOM* NOT FREYA TAYLOR. Tnx.

My wardrobe has never been a friend. Fast-forward to 2020, Kanye’s president, poncho’s are officially out and Hugh Grant has morphed into an underage antelope. Why? Obedience. Notre Dame had always conformed to a strict dress code, which made my personality cease to exist. Miley, what’s good? Definitely not your appropriation. But now, shear was clear and nobody could cover my clover. Crazy as it seems, the thought of a new school made my body semi-permeable to prejudice. I heard a cough. Another cough. Cough. Wow. My anticipation for today was… *cough*
“Why are you condescending me?” I turned around toward the rude little dipshit. Twas Edward who was greeted by my Baltic gaze.
“Hey. You ready to go?” He looked innocent. Not for long. Colour match my asshole.
“Thanks but I don’t think I’ll need a lift.”
“You sure?”
“Did I fucking stutter?”
“No. I suppose you didn’t.”
“I suppose you better leave before your spleen becomes unclean, babe.”
“Your rhyming ability is questionable.”
“Yo’ gender is questionable.”
“It’s not. I’m a cis gendered male.”
“Okay.” I grinned with my eyes. Smize. To quote Rose McGowan “My career hit rock bottom after Charmed but I don’t mind. Life is a carousel that cuts out when you least expect it. To infinity and beyond. Fuck you Shannon Doherty.”
“I’ll see you in school.”
“Wait.” I lunged toward his prepubescent body with such conviction that my bra strap snapped like a paparazzi who was solely responsible for Diana’s death. I kissed his mouth. It tasted like peanut butter. Grease me up and call me Jennifer Lopez. I didn’t take long for him to grab my bob and wet it with his fingers. Salad fingers.
“Get in the car.” I’d never seen such clogged pores. Exfoliate my minge.
“How about I don’t…” So playful.
“Get in the fucking car. You’re wasting my precious time. Are you that inconsiderate that you have forgotten that I graduate in less than a year?”
“I also graduate…”
“Sondra, you have two qualities. A gapped tooth and a chivalric corset. That isn’t enough for me. Why can’t we just converse?”
“We can do that.” I was optimistic.
“I need to show you something.” His asshole, I got a phobia… stick to my labia. Is it an irrational fear to be terrified of a non-waxed asshole? It’s just my culture. You can’t expect me to contain myself. Through thick and thin, my prostate was kept faith without hate. Hate from slut-shaming minimalists called Barbara. Barbaric Barbara, eating my lambs. Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was red because Barbara murdered it with condescension. As a mother… I’m sorry.
“Y’know, I like you Sondra.”
“I’m aware.”
“I know you are. I know you like me.”
“I like privacy and children…”
“We both like…”
“With calcium deficiency.”
“Would you like to…”
“My bones are as hard as Yugoslavia’s living standards.”
“Go on a date?”
“Yes. I will end your torment.”
“Should we go now?”
“Ed, we have to go to school. Punctuality is an anti-depressant.”
“Fuck school, Sondra.”
“5 minutes ago, that line would have floored me. Now, I’m as dry as a stillborn foal.”
“Stillborn foals are not dry.”
“They’re not?”
“Not in the slightest.”
I want to apologize for my ignorance. I’ve never had a horse, nor have I had a stillborn foal. I’m a girl who has an upbringing that has enabled me to conquer the world, man. I’ve seen people with own brand fucking cereal… do I cry? I want to. I don’t succumb to my illness. Why should you? If you want to be my lover, you got to get with my friends. With that said, I brought Ed to Jane Lynch’s house. Her yard is full of timber and beer, how queer.
“JAANE!” WHERE WAS SHE? There was no answer. She’s dead or at work? Which is more probable? 5+8=??? As I looked across her narrow courtyard, a noise interrupted my breathing. A noise? From where? I ran toward Ed but he was captivated like a seahorse.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes.” He was on drugs.
“You’re on drugs.”
“It helps.”
“The bulimia?”
“The condensation.” I couldn’t disagree. Fact was fact.
The noise erupted my inner ear, like an anti-Semitic joke gone wrong. Do any go right? I ran up to the front door but before the door-handle met my lovable limbs, Jane’s masculine features greeted a mildly sensual duo.
“Jane! What took you?”
“Oh… nothing.” Her eyes twitched from side to side… like a plumber.
“Why are your eyes more expressive than my whole entire family?”
“My heritage.”
“I can see it.” My eyes hit past my ambiguous colleague. I saw a shadow.
“Who’s there?”
“My partner?”
“Cherry?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t Cherry. Cherry had a presence… quite like . Before I could call her out on her BS, the figure emerged. It was Laura Grindalbarrogschider.
“Laura Grindalbarrogschider!”
“Laura Grindalbarrogschider!”
“Yes, it’s that girl.” Jane didn’t get her appeal.
“Hi, Sondra.”
“Hey, Laura Grindalbar…”
“Shut up and get inside.” My stomach dropped as I was pressured into another robbery. I hope Rumour Wilis will read this. I’m undiscovered. Seriously, discover me. FAME.

*If a man can vote for equality, he can stop wearing manbuns.*