Dear Laila,

You are a grotsky little biotch. Remember in high school when we were nice to you and took you under our wings? Yea, you didn't know it, but EVERYONE ELSE made fun of you. Your rayon printed outfits from Rave, chunkyass mary janes, nappy hair, and lack of ability to apply make-up were completely overlooked by us because we thought you were nice. Turns out, we were wrong. You kissed our asses to be friends with us, finally got other people to realize you existed and then turned into the biggest narcissist that ever lived. we're talking about how you were constantly posing, staring at yourself in the mirror, and making people take pictures of you. kinda odd. Maybe if you took a second to stop talking about how amazing your ass was you would realize that you had B.O. that could permeate a 4 bedroom house. Which it did. Adrienne said after you moved out, her mom said she could still smell you there for WEEKS. Also, we always thought it was weird that your tits seemed to rest on your shoulders. Everyone wants perky boobs, but jesus, that shit just didn't look right. So after all the high school drama I decided I didn't hate you enough to not live with you, so I did. I really didn't appreciate the cockroaches/maggots/fleas/flies that took over our apartment because you refused to clean your dishes or do anything following proper hygienic decorum. Also, didn't appreciate the milk you poured down the back of my 27" TV because you are not only NOT CUTE, you are a fucking psycho.

Never doing charity work again, Bitch,

P.S. Oh and nice myspace pics of you doing promo modeling. You do realize they recruit people at the mall and would tell someone with cystic acne they were gorgeous just to get people in their ads, right?

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