Put that in your fucking pipe and smoke it, you whiny-assed bitch. THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS.

This is your niece’s special day. You sit your ass down and shut your fucking mouth. If you didn’t want to be there, guess what? YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO BE. No one came to your house and forced you to leave it by gunpoint. You could have politely declined and that was the end of that. No, YOU chose to go, so act like a fucking civilised human once in your life.

The snide little comments under your breath aren’t cute. Great, you don’t share the same beliefs as someone else… no one gives a shit. Oh, you don’t believe in marriage, really? Because it’s all you talk about. You don’t have to be married blah-de-blah it’s just a piece of paper, it blah-deee-WHARGARBBL. PEOPLE CAN HEAR YOU… but I guess that was your point. Shut your fucking face.

Oh, and especially stop whispering those comments to my 12-year-old half-brother. The poor child is picking up on your shit and it’s not amusing. You’re not being cute or funny, you’re being an obnoxious asshole.

I especially LOVE the shit-talking of the groom’s family. Really, you’re just going to say that out loud? Oh wait, yes, yes you are. It’s alcohol time? Heavens forbid you don’t go five damn seconds without your precious alcohol. Oh, something something heathens? Oh, you’re talking about yourself? Right. Oh and me? You’re just going to bring me into something I have nothing to do with? Yeah, no. Just fucking NO.

“At least I’m behaving myself.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.”

/edit: Other than that asshole, it was a very lovely time… oh and being blatantly ignored, only then to be asked where my brother was… whatever. I wanted to full-on make-out with her dress and the bridesmaids’ dresses. Photos in a minute… maybe.

My, my where are my fucking manners?

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My birthday is Thursday (OLD, ). She’s throwing me a party on the 27th for it. I just don’t care to show up at all. There’s never anyone there that I like or care to hang out with. It’s a fucking keg party, which I hate. The only reason she throws parties is to be the center of fucking attention. Doesn’t matter what it’s for. The last time I had a big birthday bash she turned it around on herself, so I’m not holding out much hope for this one. People from work are supposed to show up and I want her to bust out her true colours in front of them so hard.

But, yeah. I just don’t feel like telling her about my goings-on anymore. We had a super bowl party… she wasn’t invited. She can’t fucking behave herself, therefore she’s not invited. We all decided that shit around Christmastime when my grandpa was in town & we all went out to dinner. She bitched & acted like a petulant child from the moment we got there until days after it was over. And I had to hear all about it. Therefore, we’ve stopped giving a shit about her because she clearly doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself.

“What did you guys do for super bowl?” “Was anyone over there?” “I had to sit at home by myself.” That, which is a lie because she then later told me that she went across the street to hang out with her neighbours for a bit. You’re not going to guilt me with that “I’m all alone/I have no friends” bullshit. You have plenty of friends, you just apparently don’t ever call them. Seriously. Or maybe you do and they’re avoiding you b/c you act the same way around them.

A “hey, what did you do this weekend” is terribly innocent from anyone but her. God forbid you do anything fun without having invited her along. She’s got some sort of inferiority complex going on that is really fucking annoying. Someone has something she doesn’t? Someone buys something? Oh, those are apparently the biggest personal affronts to her EVER. How dare someone have something i don’t.

She’s always saying that people should step back and look at the common denominator when someone else bitches about the same thing. You know, one day I’m going to tell her the same thing. I’m tired of stressing myself out over it and I’m going to stop. I just don’t give a shit anymore. I’ll be 30-years-old on the 25th…. I’m too old for this fucking junior-high guilt-trip shit, especially from my own mother.

Oh, it’s apparently going to involve a keg. Apparently (word of the post, apparently ), all of the times I’ve proclaimed my hatred of keg parties just goes in one ear and right the fuck out of the other. No one I know or even like shows up at these things and I already know what’s going to happen. The same thing that happened at my last birthday party… mother hogged the fucking attention for herself, because God forbid someone have their own special day once a year.

I doubt it’s even going to come to fruition; but if it does and I decide to grace it with my presence, I reserve the right to leave whenever the fuck I want. I also reserve the right the curse people (i.e., mother) the fuck out when they (she) starts acting like a cunty twatface. And since she’s apparently (4) inviting people from work, I’d love for her to show her true colours.

I picture the entire affair ending with these (not the sexy men, unfortunately)…

Oh, and apparently, she was going to make it a surprise… no, just no thank you.

After yesterday, where I had a gigantic headache (oh my eyeballs and the light!, a repeat of Monday), had to drive home in ICE (fun times), and just generally had to put up with morons… I’ve decided I’m going to stop talking to a couple of people. The only time I will talk to these idiots is at work, and only about work things… you know just to make the process smoother. Other than that, fuck off and die. I will NOT make small talk with you, I will NOT listen to or participate in your bitching/shit-talking… I’m just going to NOT do anything.

Main person… oh we all know who that bitch is… I’m probably going to stop answering her phone calls unless The Roommate answers the phone… which he usually doesn’t. I’m sick of her bullshit so fucking hard I just, I don’t know. She seems to have ramped up the asshole this week. I called her on some of it (i.e., see last post) and she’s ever the deny-er. I’m not quite sure her fascination with trying to get me to quit my job. Whenever I’m even slightly annoyed or having an off-day, that’s the first thing that comes up. “You CAN find somewhere to go,” “You don’t HAVE to be here.” ETC ETC ETC, ad nauseum, over and fucking over… SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Apparently everyone is allowed to be annoyed at the entire world, or the small little work world of morons… everyone but me, that is. I’m not sure if she views me as some sort of threat, or what; but, it’s getting old. Old at work and old in life. It’s the same thing away from work. YOU’RE WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS. Well, WE can; but then you feel threatened by everyone else, or some stupid shit I’ve long stopped trying to figure out.

This is why no one invites you places; because you don’t know how to behave. She asked me last Sunday if The Roommate was having a Super Bowl party. I just shrugged my shoulders because I didn’t want to get into it. Yes, yes, he is and you’re not invited. You’re not invited because you don’t know how to behave around adults… or children and animals really. Everyone but you is invited. So piss off.

Oh, you’ve invited everyone over to watch at your house… good for you, puddin’. Have fun. Oh, the Pro Bowl is on Sunday… have fun watching by yourself. Have I ever mentioned that I don’t really like hand-egg football?

“Why are you being mean to me?”
“I’m not being mean to you.”

Really? Because your tone of voice and the way you said the previous statement pretty much negates that, asshole. Fucking g-ddamn bitch.

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?