The Thoughts Of A Lunatic!

                                                            Toxic Boy

  No matter what he does, or how much he hurts you, you still come crawling back for more.
  Sound familiar? Yep, we've all been there, having our souls ripped out (and putting up with it ) just 'cos you allow yourself to be turned into a big pile of mush with the flick of an eyebrow. Y'know, when you've been grinning from ear to ear for the past three days because He smirked at you on Tuesday in Double Maths or offered you a Pringle at break-time (well, Salt N Vinegar was always your favourite flavour anyway)
  And don't even get me started on the music scene... don't event try to convince me that besides Steps, Nine Inch Nails are your favourite band, and you've been wanting that KoRn hoodie for ages... anyone who likes Steps in my opinion needs serious medical help anyway!
  Of course, it could be you that like all the punk ass music, and him that likes Steps; in that case, RUN GIRLS RUN!!!
  I suppose I've got an advantage in a  way; I can listen to stuff like Blink 182, Pitchshifter, Slipknot, Green Day, etc. without wishing that a giant meteor would crash through my bedroom window, "accidentally" destroying my CD Player (and shutting up that ear-wrecking shite those boys call music). And yes I'm using sarcastic quote marks here. In fact if I'm honest I was the one that introduced my friends to it, although I wish that I'd never heard anything by the likes of Slipknot (oh c'mon, that's soooooo last season)... it's great when your PMS levels are through the roof!
  I'm into James Bond and bloke humour (c'mon, I laughed all the way through Coupling, what more do you want?), I adore Star Wars (I totally dig Darth Maul's lightsabre), and I can even sit through the mindless gore-fest thing without moaning... much.
  Oh yeah, and my undying devotion to ma boyz (AKA Liverpool Football Club) doesn't go amiss during those awkward silence-filled moments either.
  So you automatically assume I've got it all sorted right?
  Sorry to burst your bubble girls, but knowing the names of all the band members in Slipknot or wearing lipstick which doesn't clash with his shirt DOES NOT mean that he'll soon be reading you S Club 7 lyrics down his mobile  as a sign of his "devotion". (Although if this DOES happen, I have an excellent psychiatrist...)
  Truth is he'll still diss your hair when you wear it in pig-tails, forget to meet you (leaving you for yonks while he plays footie with the lads), and flirt with your best mate - the only difference will be that it'll bug you mroe than it did before!
  So what can be done? (Now this is the unfair bit)
  Unless you've got the will power of a... well, really strong-willed person, you won't be able to a) ignore or b) stop devoting yourself to Mr. Toxic Boy. You can't reverse the mind games without ending up looking like a total bitch (who said chauvinism was dead?) and you can't carry on the way you're going, because missing Ally McBeal so you can meet him after football training (in the rain of course - the drowned pigeon look is just so in right now) just aint healthy, y'dig?
  Me thinks there isn't a cure... except becoming a lesbian. Or moving to a convent in the inner depths of Peru... Or maybe becoming a lesbain nun in the inner depths of Peru... I'm open to ideas!!!

Got a cure??? E-Mail it to me, like, now!!!