There's nothing that one can really say in a setting with a group of people with discussed, predetermined assumptions of a person. Anything the accused might say would just be blown off to said assumptions. Play up their stereotype; rub it like shit in their faces, and they'll be justified in their prUDE-mindedness and be able to move on to the next specimine. Otherwise they'll just keep poking at the starfish on the shore until they multiply and take over the world, transporting all of humankind to Mars without oxygen tanks, where only our eyelash-mites would survive and evolve into a whole colony of madness and assumptions all over again.
Many cling to alternate personalities to earn brownie points with their clique as having some sort of 'connect', but it's all as rubber as a Nixon mask. They fucked up my picture in the yearbook. I would have ruther've had no pic at all, than the shatty retake. I would've almost been pissed if I actually knew anyone at school. Alot of people at school "know" me, but I never have any idea who they are when they come up to me. Except for that one hot guy in my _____ class. High-fives for shirtless guys. Pierced a dick again. This time it went through. At the Static-X concert (where I screamed loud enough to coax the lead singer of Invitro to take his shirt off) I met this one mystery-cloak guy who was having an after-show party @ his friend's house. Mom called me super late and we eventually made our way back home for two seconds and went to some other friend's house at, like, 5ish AM?
