It was soooooooo difficult to get to My Kinda Cute Petrelli‘s apartment. First, I had to figure out where the hell that totally bizarre Haitian had taken me in the first place. Like, I was seriously seriously lost. I didn’t even know what state I was in. I guess I should have paid more attention in the car, but c’mon my Dad had been blasted in the gut by the freak sitting beside me so I was like, all “Maybe I should be really quiet cause I don’t feel like getting shot again (Thanks a lot, mind reader cop person! Next time can you aim somewhere that doesn’t leave bloodstain on my designer jeans? Do you know how much begging I had to do to get those?!?!? I had to go to church with my mother and they were all “We’re all gifts from God” and I was all “Then what is with my schizo brother Lyle” and I had to totally do Muggles’ nails…that Prima Donna, ugh! Mom was all “Baby Birdie Pink doesn’t go with Muggles complexion and I was like, “So Street Prostitute red is sooooooo much better?!?!)
N E Wayz! After I figure out what state I was in I had to get my Kinda Cute Petrelli’s address. I kept asking people in the street if they knew who My Kinda Cute Petrelli was, but no one had any idea what I was talking about. They were all like “Kinda Cute who?” and I was all like “Petrelli! PETRELLI!” and then some other guy was like “I know a Kinda Cute Thermopolis” and I was all like “Does Thermopolis sound anything like Petrelli” And they were like “Well…yeah.” And then I was all like “Oh.”
I kept asking around for like hours and hours and hours, but no one knew who Kinda Cute Petrelli was! So then I had a brilliant wonderful, absolutely genius idea: I looked in the Phone Book! And there it was under Petrelli, Kinda Cute. And I was all like “Yay!” and the people by the phone were all like “Whaaaa?’ And I was all “N.M… God.” So then I took a taxi to the address, but I couldn’t pay the driver, cause I was kinda broke cause I hadn’t planned on making a trip to New York. ( I totally would have cleaned out my savings account to go shopping on Fifth Av., but with the Dad-shooting, and driving around with a guy who was practically mute, I was kind of out of monetary options) N.E. Wayz, The Driver totally threatened me and then broke my arm as payment, he was like “Dis iz vat ve do in mine country vor teeves.” And I was like “Whaaaa….whatever. I’m looking for a Kinda Cute Petrelli so just get it over with.” And he did and I left and he was all “Vitch! Vitch” And I was like “Mmm kay, Thanks!”
Then I was finally at My Kinda Cute Petrelli’s apartment, so I knocked on the door and this woman open it up and she was all. “Luke, I am your grandmother” and then I heard “French french french french!” And she was all like “French!” and he was all like *French* and I felt all bad when I saw the Haitian standing behind the door. I was like totally confused why my grandmother was at My Kinda Cute Petrelli’s apartment but then she was like “Hah! Your Kinda Cute Petrelli is my Darling wonderful child Peter!” And I was all like….”his name’s Peter?” and she was all like “Yep.” and I was like “Hmmmm…then that makes him My Kinda Cute Uncle Petrelli!” And we all laughed! Well, I laughed. Everyone else just kinda glared.
P.S. Don’t forget to vote for me in the Burnt Toast Diner Poetry Contest, cause I worked really, really hard on my poem and I’d hate to lose to my brainwashed father. 😀
Oh, so that’s where you are…
-Candace
So here’s a totally awesome brilliant plan for you! Can you give my Dad back his computer so he can totally finally start posting again? I’m kinda tired of the like “Oh, I torture people!” thing cause it’s getting really like totally old, Kinda like my Last Season Turquoise and Silver conch belt. It’s shiny and pretty but it really shouldn’t be out for long periods of time. OMIGOD! So it kind of like you’re the belt and it’s really time for you to head back to my darling designer closet! So GO!
I love you Claire.
My favorite nailpolish color was Pure Pink.
I love you back, Mr. Muggles. I think the worst moment in our respective lives is when Mommy didn’t remember us!
You are becoming more like your mother every day…Your Bio-Mother that is…
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This comment has been removed by the author.
As my bio-father,what exactly do you mean by that?
Well, Bio-Father , I’m still waiting for an answer. OMG.
Oh forgive me sweetheart. I didn’t realize you were asking me a question. I have consulted with Scott McClellen,my Public Relations Crap Corrector. He advised me that since we are family I should relate the following to you personally…
What I mean is you are becoming more beautiful everyday, and soon I will have to take out restraining orders to keep the dirty old men away from you.