Mother Nature does not fuck around and apparently she reads this blog. I was fine. I was fucking happy. Then the last two hours happened and suddenly I'm ready to kick some ass. Anybodies ass. My puppy, whom I love just accidentally head butted me and I had to put him down and walk away because the bitch/anger/homicidal factor is at it's limit. I'd prefer to be left alone to watch whatever I want and eat some chicken (I'm having an insane craving for chicken) in silence. Is that going to happen? No. Why? Because when not menstruating and homicidal I pro-created like a motherfucker and there are kids all over the place. And animals. Animals that all I had a hand in bringing into this house. Right now though? I'd kill for an empty single bedroom apartment stocked with chicken, Grape Vodka, chocolate and elastic waisted pants and no mirrors.
Is it too much to ask?
Hey, keep your fucking opinions to yourself because that, a-holes, was a rhetorical question.
I quit smoking some eight years ago but I may go find one right now before I go all Scarface on somebody. Or Gemma. Gemma from SOA. With a skateboard. If you haven't watched that show yet (and that particular reference is from Season 1) then I don't know why you're still here. It's a pre-requisite to being a party to this blog.
Which? I already fucking told you.
Get there faster.
I need a drink.