Why am I the one that has to take all these godamn evil pills - to include some severely toxic crap - to level out my fucking blood pressure when I have to deal with high strung, angry, people all fucking day long?
I've tried to keep positive, I've tried to be as generous as fucking possible, but some folks don't quite understand the sacrifices I make for them. You know who you are, ingrates. Both of you really chap my ass.
Now, you have completely ruined my nicey, little Prozac buzz that I get around this time of day. Happy, yet, assholes?
The first thing I do when I get home is take care of chores, then go to my music, then spend more money and time and consideration on both of you and you both still figure out a way to treat me like shit???? I guess I'm the masochist this evening, eh, Mummsy?
Fuck you and fuck your godamn bullshit. If I have to be on this kind of medicine and you still think I'm the one with the bad attitude-------- you're a fucking retarded dyslexic - no offense to retards or dyslexics.
And just for icing on the cake, when you go to an online site for a store called, "HOME DEPOT" and look for an exterior door, the last fucking thing I want is a DOGGIE-DOOR. How about one that a person over 2 feet tall can get through, preferably with a lockset and not a fucking vinyl flap. What the hell has happened to them that they sell Christmas trees and godamn doggie doors?
Now, I'm going to go into my den, with the doors shut, fans on, and put in Carlos Mencia or maybe even "40-year Old Virgin" - yeah, again. It's either that or I go downstairs and get ready to take on a responsibility that I swore I would not do, but it has nothing to do with you and your inability to become stable, it has to do with my love for animals, which I have to say, at this point, beats anything standing on two fucking legs.
Stay away from me because this time I will bite, not just bark. Here's your fucking warning.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment