My New Best Friend

If there was an award for the greatest Avril Speech of all time, this girl would totaly win it. She TOTALY understands how i feel!! Its amazing!! Her speech is so long it wouldnt fit on one page, and had to be put into a text box. I only have one thing to say: Chelsea, you ROCK.

Oh, my God. Okay, let's get one thing straight -- I hated her before I came to this webpage. I had previously read articles about her actions and her quotes and her unmatchable hypocrisy and such, and it reassured me that I have every reason to hate her as I do. But AFTER I viewed the entire website . . . ARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! JESUS CHRIST! How deluded IS this bitch?? REALLY? Now, I've been around stupid, pompous, pig-headed, arrogant, snot-nosed, false-faces before . . but this! THIS! Everything she does . . . everything she SAYS . . . it's not only morally wrong, it's just . . . it's just . . . oh, God, I'm WITHOUT WORDS! ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I want to f*****' SCREAM, and tear my hair out at the ROOTS! The ROOTS!!!!! WHAT A BITCH! Was she BORN that way? What is being a punk worth? No, no, no . . . what's the IMAGE worth? Is it worth sacrificing common decency . . . the tiniest scrap of goodness that every human being has SOMEWHERE deep inside, which in her case is buried so far underneath her need to LOOK and ACT like a punk that she can't even SEE what kind of a person she's being? I just don't understand. She -- and I mean, forget her music altogether for the moment -- she is a HORRIBLE peron herself! My God . . . would she walk over a deadman and bitch about him being in her way? Oh, fuck, yes, I think she would! It upsets me! It really does . . . not because it's coming from her, really, but it upsets me about the human NATURE. I had previously thought that maybe people had at least SOME shred of decency in them, but, oh, Ms. Avril sure proved me wrong. What she's doing isn't being a punk -- she's just being a bitch. And, by God, she can't see that because she's just so focused on being a little "punk/rock" star. Oh, lordy. Now I'm on a tangent. Dear God, save those still reading. On to somethin' else . . . Oh, dear God, what's become of my generation? Rock? ROCK? Heh. Rock. Yes. Barking out lyrics to Metallica's "Fuel", ultimately ruining the whole tribute for me? Yes. That's rock. Indeedy-do. She crossed the f*****' line when she went on the Metallica tribute. Not just any line -- it was a VERY PERSONAL LINE THAT SHE PROCEDED TO DISRESPECT. I take my Metallica VERY seriously. VERY. It has been my only source of solace . . . my only cure . . . my only LIGHT on this lonely journey through Depression . . . infinitely probably also being the chain that keeps me there, as well. But nonetheless. She can cover her modern rock songs -- Sum 41, John Rzeznick, even System of a Down, if she has to . . . but no. NOT Metallica. Oh, f*** no. It's true hate now -- it's touched down on a more . . . shall we say . . . PERSONAL note. I won't lie. I plan on becoming a musician when I finally meet up with band members that will have me. Preferably of the metal genre -- it's a foolish hope, yes . . . but dear lord, if they can jail me for it, so be it, I'm guilty. And I am also a girl . . . although . . . a lot of people don't treat me as one because I don't dress -- forgive the Avril term -- "preppy" enough for them. In fact, I recently wasted about $200 on seriously preppy clothes . . . only to read yet another article about Avril's "being herself because she wears baggy clothes-ness" and ironically learn a lesson about myself from her damn song "complicated" -- in that if it just doesn't feel right, I shouldn't have to wear it for anyone else. Yeah . . . I admit it . . . it something that Avril pretends to promote but . . . y'know, she's a faker, so . . . well, she doesn't really follow it herself. Anyways, yes, I'm a girl, for crying out loud -- I love Metallica to death, I play guitar, I write songs and stuff, I dream of PURE rock-stardom and I dress in ugly baggy boys clothes because I myself feel I deserve nothing prettier . . . but do you hear me bragging and bitching about how my ass falls out of my pants when I sing, and how punky and hardcore I am because I can manage to crawl over to my guitar amp, crank it up to where it's distorted, and strum a simplistic, basic, three-noted POWER CHORD? Do you see me running around trashing malls and inching around on a skate -- I'm sorry -- SK8 board, screaming about how punky I am and how preppy others are just 'cause they've got a different style of clothing? Do you hear me constantly cutting down innocent musicians because I'm so fucking overly confident that it overloads my braincells, which are so fucked up by falling off a SK8 board numerous times just so I can look cool in a music video that potrays nothing related to the song itself? Do you see me pretending to be the greatest at something I know millions of people before have done and have been made legends by? Um . . . No! You can't imagine how it feels every time I hear Avril's name. The very ponounciation leaves me feeling as though someone has snuck up on me and jabbed an 8-inch knife straight into my ribs. Why? I'm not exactly sure . . . but I think it's because it's hard for me to bear seeing her stink up her place in the spotlight to a point which the stench will linger for years after she's gone, and will ultimately affect all females attempting their chances in the rock business. I honestly feel robbed. I feel hurt knowing that Avril's fakeness and dishonesty and looks is what people want . . . not the song lyrics or the talent that reflect raw emotion. I'll be honest yet again -- I've always secretly dreamed of being a part of some Metallica tribute thingy. And now it's already passed me by, kicking me straight in the ass before it disappeared around the corner. I was just about six or seven years too late, can you imagine that? And guess what girl rock/heavy metal musician was immediately there to soak up my dream and spit it straight into my face! Why, her, of course. It was my dream -- how many nights has she stayed up contemplating suicide, having only a Metallica CD there to give her second thoughts about when and where to give up? How many times has she jotted down their lyrics when she's caught offgaurd by depression once again? How many times has she actually listened to their lyrics and got anything out of them? Obviously never, seeing as how bitchy and uncompassionate she's so focused on being. I know what I've been saying about Metallica and Avril doesn't really pertain to anything . . . I'm just trying to help everyone understand just how much she's upset some people. Or maybe it's just me -- I always have been . . . unique. Cough, cough, *freak*, cough, cough. I used to comfort myself by saying, "Oh, come on -- she's probably very nice in person." But I can't do that anymore. Avril has no insight as to what inner torment really is -- one of the lines from her song "I'm With You" proclaimed she was trying to figure out this life. Well, how can she do that when all she allows herself to see . . . is the stereotype about what a punk is supposed to be? Case closed. I can't change people's minds about things. If I could, it would be a perfect world, and I wouldn't be here nagging your ear off about something that I should probably just leave you alone about. I'm really sorry I've bothered you by writing this long thing -- and if I've somehow upset you, I apologize for that as well. My zeal about Anti-Avrilism is probably so weird because of how personal it is in my particular case, and when something affects me personally, lord help those in the surrounding area. All-in-all, here's my point: She's just a hypocrite poser, trying to make a living off a stereotype. And I mean, you really can't blame her . . . probably the most contact she's ever really had with other "punks" are with the teenage girls modeling the line of clothing corresponding with the title "punk" in the cheap JC Penny catalogues she found in the, um, rough streets of Canada. And I'd ALSO like to take this one last moment to proclaim for myself and girls like me all around the world that SOME of us can actually do a GOOD James Hetfield (Metallica guy) impression when called upon. And that even a baby with one arm has not only the potential, but the 100% pure ability in ITSELF to rock harder than Avril could ever dream to in this lifetime . . . even when the only instrument we have next to us is an empty Dasani water bottle. Thanks for taking the time to read this. (I sure do appreciate it!) -- Chelsea B. Davis -- ( metallica_lover_adorer@hotmail.com ) (( fuck you, Avril! If I had the chance, I'd slug you once in the face with my 28-year-old acoustic guitar and balance it out by whopping you straight on ass with my ELECTRIC guitar . . . but then again, I wouldn't want to insult the trees that they were made from, now would I? )) ((( . . . and I swear, that was the very last word )))

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sry, ill fix the links later ><