Banna, and sometimes itchy, Trying to find out what bee fut is Extremely bee, discolored Cheat Derek Jeter, Christmas lights and Dave Barry Man with fruit, and spiked Fanta Leeta wonders what you call a "door" Imaginary toe friend, whose name is Michael George is shoving Leeta off the cliff Dead little girls, and severed arteries Laying in uncomfortable places Snot pop, and cinnamon pizza dough And fighting over deformed shoebox hats Womb to tomb and boith to oith Long live the book-keeping shoe Emily hates Chattanooga Choo-Choo And sleepign between Meghan's ribs and hips Queen Emily and Scribing Leeta And the unrelated Jarmaster Meghan The Fifty Cent pants and Wilson's Leather And apparently crickets are winged snakes Ouches, I hurt myself Meghan won't go to a day spa Hello Joe, a-woo-hoo-hoo-hoo And don't forget the disembodied hand The Island, Leeta's packages We wouldn't want them to go to waste Brave Little Toaster is such a pansy And spelling communism with a "k" (kay, kay, kay!) Yes and yes, and Velma's dancing Hitler lives on Leeta's toe (he does!) "Carrot cake" and "friendship bracelets" And you can puncuate the ooblee-oo Someday we'll rule the world From our own living rooms Queen Emily and also Leeta And Meghan gets to be the page
Written by Meghan Buttler, August 2003, with the help of Emily and Leeta
Without a doubt, we are cooler than you. Our exlusive, illusive, mildly abusive behavior far outways yours... sir... or madame. I don't know. This community is for us and us only, because you are a loser if you are not in this Sisterhood. You are only a non-loser if you are lucky enough to make it to our friends' page. Which is also exlusive, and we're getting the paper hats ready right this moment. They are the height of the paper veign, so shut up and wear them if you want to read this. That's right.
I love you, girls.
The Team: Megsi, Emily, and Leeta. Today, tomorrow, always... and long after your mom is dead.