Your Daughter

Oh, girl, let your hair down low
All over me, yeah,
I want you all over me. Climb on now, hard and fast
Just let me cram in as many sexual innuendos as I can,
Watch me
And they’ll play it on the radio
They’ll play it to little ones who I’ll mold into one of my very own

Say, who cares if this song don’t rhyme
I just wanna cash in on other girls’ insecurities
Most of them barely even hit puberty
Oh well, we say, this shit sells
Why make the world a little better when
You can make it look ugly?
We’ll make the little girls hate themselves and,
Yeah, we’ll think it’s funny

I know sex sells and
I’m so original for using it in my lyrics, who’d have thought that’s the way to make
Money?

I know it’s disgusting, so please go ahead
Go ahead and tell yourself you hate it
That you abhor it, that it’s wrong
But you’ll still watch it, buy it, and get it to the charts,
Buy it, Buy it, and let your daughter paste it all over her bedroom walls in sparkly little hearts
I may be an image, a brand, and a lie
But only I have the power to make your baby girl cry.

Cry my name and shout it, scream it, blast it through the walls
Go and buy her that cake with my face on it
For I’m the only thing she adores
She’ll find other boys soon to give her a big fat diamond ring
But for now I hold the key, the key, yes, the key
to screw with her own insignificant self worth
I’ll shape her own perception of herself,
And make her feel lost when she realises that she can never,
Ever be with the construct that defines itself as ‘me’.

Because,

really,

just

who

makes

money

being

authentic

anymore?

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Forts & Castles

I told you earlier that there are currently teenage boys constructing forts and having nerfgun battles to the death in our house right now. So far nerfgun battles we’ve had are constituting at roughly 3 per day. I am apparently their backup.

We’ve also had squabbles, alcohol ramblings and coming home at approximately 2.30am last night.
I thought, to paint a better image in your minds of our weekend, I’d take a photo of the boys and the fort they made. It is actually pretty good. Our sofa is literally upside down right now, with a blanket smothered over it, acting like a gateway into the dark hole within.

Mal is up there too … somewhere!

They’ve calmed down for now. Give them xbox and they calm down. It’s what I’ve learned.
Food also helps a lot. There are crumbs everywhere.

Mal is also enjoying herself. She is treating the fort as her own little princess tower, I think and won’t come down.
She’s very happy.

Let’s see what the rest of the night entail…

Held Under Fire

As a mature, accomplished 19 year old university student, I have come home to a cold house under a seize of fire.

Currently, there are roughly 4-5 large, loud and extremely hyper 7 year olds running around the house, along the hallways, up and down the stairs; they’ve even built themselves a highly strategic fort in the living room so sofas have been moved around and I can’t get into the food cupboards. I cannot even reach my tea – so I’m saying goodbye to hot beverages and may have to resort to walking swiftly out to the shops every time I want a drink. These 7 year olds – or that is how they appear to be anyway – are in actual fact nearly grown men, around the ages of 17-19 years old.

They are incredibly loud.
They keep bursting into my bedroom, unannounced, screaming my name, and demanding I join them in their Nerfgun battle to the death. I don’t want to die today.

Despite being sold and marketed towards kids, those bullets seriously hurt if they speed headlong into say your eye.

Mal is happy though. Despite being ran through with bullets she’s taken to running round the house with them, attempting to play too.
What a right little soldier. She’s my little Browncoat.

But then they stepped on her.

Basically, this was me.

So I went crazy. She’s shut up inside my room with me now, hiding under the bed.

Mal down!