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Hey, want help with these? I remember some pretty awful ones from here, myself.
About the bat one: One reason I'm afraid of high school. Good thing we don't have a WalMart!

I didn't want to talk about this. But, I felt that everyone should know.

I had a sleepover with every girl in my class last weekend, including the twitards. They were all squealing about Twilight and freaking out. No one wanted to talk to them, though, and at one point, me and a group of my good friends told them to stop when they found my copy of Twilight and started proclaiming it like the bible.

They were angry the rest of the time.

When we went up to my room, they started giggling and yelling. "It's a mouse, ew!" And I told them they could play with him if they wanted to. So they got him out and started petting him and, you know.

Everything was fine until they started playing catch with him. They literally started throwing my mouse across the room and attempting to catch him. I was so ******** pissed I personally called their moms and asked them politely to pick their daughters up.

Pudding seemed fine, but within a few hours, he started acting weird, and the next morning, he was gone.

What the HELL is wrong with these people? What do they have to do to prove whatever it is they're trying to prove!? They said, "OH WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE MESSED WITH TWILIGHT," or, "We didn't mean to, we were just excited because there was Twilight,"

And the ******** BITCHES didn't even APOLOGIZE FOR KILLING MY MOUSE.

I'm so angry. I'm SO ANGRY. I'm sad and I feel like s**t...

I just hate this ******** book. I wish SMeyer had never been born so she wouldn't have written it.

I'm new to this whole thing. I only heard about Twilight about a month ago (time is funky in my brain). It seemed like an overrated idea at first, especially when I was pressured to read it and decided that it was fairly average as far as vampire books go. I didn't particularly dislike it, to be honest, and I never did say anything but that. I'm very reclusive and don't particularly like to emerge from my little sanctum (a corner in the art department at my college) at all, let alone put myself out. This however proved little defense against what is effectively unrestricted madness. I was approached, somewhat hesitantly, by a girl about my age who seemed genuinely interested in my drawings. She asked if I drew vampires, seemed an orthodox enough question, so I responded with a simple;
"Yes, but the nosferatu kind. Not the suave types you get in Bram Stoker and Twilight" (I actually had a fine list of both genres, but I can't really remember the entire spiel). She gave me this funny look and asked if I had something against 'suave' vampires. It seemed a little strange, but nothing too creepy, so again, I responded.
"Not really where my interests lie, actually. I mean, I'll do them on commission, if that's what you're after". This didn't really seem to please her very much at all. I asked her if she was a particular fan of vampires, and got this response (or something along the lines);
"Ooh yes, Edward Cullen from Twilight... he's like, a god to me. But then, how could he not be, right?". This told me that a) she was a little bit wacko, and b) she was a ditsy fangirl. But since she seemed like a viable customer, I pressed the matter (foolish, I know, but I was innocent).
"Would you like a drawing of him, perhaps? Or that other person, the girl, maybe?". That, I realize now, was probably when the s**t hit the fan, as they say.
She said something very strange then, which I remember fairly well, seeing as it lead to the next thing...
"You don't deserve to draw him". s**t, I tell you, this was spooky. it was like something out a movie for ******** sake. I was scared at this point. I'm not very big, I'm way too frail for survival purposes, and she looked (at this point) like a friggin' murderer. I tried to get her to back off, so I said something like, 'yeah, I sure don't'. She walked away, which seemed like a kindness, and I thought I was off scot-free. But on my way out, carrying relatively expensive equipment and some rather good pieces of art, I feel this great crashing blow to my back and am thrown into the door. About the only thought going through my mind at the time was something along the lines of '...the ********?'. But who do you think was behind me? Not Bruce Willis (though from the force of the blow, I wouldn't have been surprised), but the crazy psychopath from before. Now holding a chair.
Holy ******** in a nutshell.
I got hit a couple more times before I managed to get the door open and get out. I can run pretty fast, and she was toting a chair, so I managed to get out into the atrium before this b***h can lay into me again but s**t. I had people I didn't know asking if I'd been mugged for ******** sake. Fortunately, there was no lasting damage, except to my patella, which if I heard the doctor correctly has had it's 'cartilage strained'. I don't know what that means but it didn't sound good, and it still stings like the dickens whenever I bend it too much. Apparently that should wear off in about 6 months, and the bruises are ugly, but temporary, so I count myself lucky. I had to get a couple of stitches on my jaw where the chair leg got me real good, but aside from that, everything went swimmingly.

My point is... WTF IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE!?!?!? I didn't even express a mild dislike for the book, and yet that crazy psychopath took that as grounds to beat me with a friggin' chair!? I swear, if I wasn't a good person, I would murder her. I think she's had her courses revoked for the incident, and as far as I'm aware she's not allowed back on the grounds. it's still frightening to think that she's still out there somewhere, and has it in for me. She's ******** mental.
After the incident, I went looking online to see if there was any sort of similarities between my case and others (if there were others). Turns out there are, and this site has them all. I am so happy to have found this place.