Convincing Principal Higgins to play Madonna non-stop was the best thing I’ve ever done. I haven’t felt this empowered since I ran over my neighbor’s dog. Let them try to take this to court like they threatened. Anything that doesn’t poop on a toilet is clearly a menace to society. And that includes babies and old people. None of them can be trusted.
I continue to worry the Cheerios aren’t living up to their full potential, despite my attempts to Madonna-fy them. Where have I gone wrong, Journal? Have I not taught them all the different ways to stimulate a sex act with the same class and dignity Madonna always does? Is it perhaps time to suggest they pose naked and create coffee table books? Or must we embrace our gay following as Madonna has?
I would consider the last one, if only the gay population of this school was not limited to Will Schuester’s little Keebler elf.
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The nerve of Will Schuester! To mock my hair — my hair — when his looks like a Brillo pad! I may have gotten slightly emotional about his outburst, which caused Tina Turner and Liberace to visit me in my office and invite me to join their little multimedia tribute to Her Madgesty. Naturally, I accepted — who better to impersonate Madonna than myself? In addition, I may have told them the mostly true story of my hair. I say mostly true because I fudged my age, but only by ten or fifteen years. Of course they didn’t question it — when you’re as radiant as I am, who would?
Spent three hours in the gym today just working on getting myself Madonna arms. I will not be satisfied until mine are as glorious as hers.
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Dare I say that the little Glee rejects were near-inspirational? I almost would, Journal. At the very least, their letting me inhabit Madonna’s shoes has allowed me to get my head back in the game. For too long I’ve been too kind and accepting of this glee club. There was an entire week — a week! — where I allowed them to run roughshod over my quest to dominate this school. I’ve told myself many times, this is what happens when I allow my trusting and kind-hearted nature to run rampant. No more. Two of Schuester’s little Glee monkeys have signed on as Cheerios — let’s see him try to win without an Elton John or a Jennifer Hudson.
Santana also informs me that her designs on one Finn Hudson have proven successful, and Rachel Berry’s new boytoy has joined New Directions, which will inevitably create soul-crushing drama. Finally, things are coming together. Now to get Figgins to allow me to practice pyrotechnics in the gym. There’s no way we’re taking Nationals if our routines aren’t as flaming as a certain new member of our cheering squad.
Clacked by Julia Hass 
on Apr 26, 2010 @ 11:00 EST5EDT
Love the nicknames for Kurt and Mercedes!