Darling Clementine

It’s cold & rainy and I really don’t want to leave the house. Really, really… really don’t. Who says I have to show up to dinner just because someone wants everyone there? I don’t want to be there. I’m fucking grown and don’t have to do shit that I don’t want, right? Not in my mother’s world. In mother’s world we all have to bow to her whims and God help us if we don’t. My boss and I were talking about her bullshit this morning before we all peaced-out of work. We just laughed and laughed at her ridiculousness.

I don’t know. I’ll play “nice” this year. I’ll make the stupid deviled eggs after they finish boiling. I’ll put on my stupid AWESOME dress & I’ll make my hair do… something. I’ll get in the damn car and drive across town and play “nice” and, damn it, I’ll do it sober.

Tomorrow, however, in my own home, I refuse to indulge anyone’s childish behaviour… and I WON’T be doing that sober. Right, Eddy?

Please allow me a brief bitching session. I haven’t had one (on paper or in person) in a while and my head is about to pop off.

The level of hypocrititude™ (lol) with some people here is amazing. They never do anything wrong (OF COURSE), but are so quick to blame everyone else when things go south. I’m to the point now that I only talk to like 3 people here. Everyone else… well, I don’t flat-out ignore them, but I’m not jumping to acknowledge their existence, either.

I’m sitting here (sidenote: I wrote this at work, ha!) going through the paperwork of things we’ve shipped out and the half-assitude™ (lol) is awesome. /sarcasm You bitch up a blue streak about everyone else half-assing shit and fucking shit up… but… but.. but…

BLEEDING HELL I HATE PEOPLE. ugh.

Look, I’m sure people with purple hair are a rarity wherever the hell you come from; but, here, they’re not. (It’s not even completely purple; then maybe I’d understand.) Plus, I’m pretty sure you own a TV; so, you know. So, you lovely pack of yokels, kindly walk your 1980s coat, your ankle-length denim skirt, and your scrubs across the damn parking lot into nasty-ass KFC and get the fuck out of my way.

Also, you’re STARING AT ME & poking ass (*snort*) in the middle of the parking lot… so don’t look at me like I’m insane when I yell at you to “Quit staring at me and move!” Seriously. (Stare at me as I’m going past & quit holding up traffic.) Go back to Fayette County or Mormon-land, or wherever the hell ankle-length denim skirts are still in fashion.