Oh, by the way... Bitchy Chick?
I'll admit, I have no idea what on Earth ails you sometimes, why you act the way you do or make International Incidents outta the most mundane, unimportant shit the way you do.
But, I have noticed once or twice that I seem to amuse you somehow. I suppose that's better than mysteriously annoying you somehow, but there's a coupla things you oughta know, so you can take them into consideration and make informed decisions when it comes to me.
Now, listen up. First off, yes I do talk to myself and have in-depth conversations with inanimate objects, which is NOT redundant, no matter how much it may seem to be. You seem to take this to mean I'm nuts, or something. Wrong. I mean, yeah, I AM nuts, sure. But, talking to myself and other things has nothing to do with that. My "nuts"-ness goes waaaay much deeper than that. It's ingrained, Baby-girl. It's an inborn part of me like my soul is. I'm not only comfortable with it, I like it. No, talking to myself and things is something that I do occasionally simply because I occasionally like to have an intelligent conversation, if ya know what I mean, which I'm sure you don't or you'd not make that a necessary activity in the first place, wouldja? Believe me, if ya wanna see just how nuts I am, give it time. Hell, the way my temper has been the last 36 hours or so, it may not take that long at all. I murdered two VHS tapes yesterday. Totally snapped out because of that TV that ate tapes. It broke two tapes, so I went the fuck off and stomped one and hammer murdered the other one to keep from throwing the TV off the barn roof.
Then, just for shits-n-giggles, I threw a glass thingamabob and broke it, on purpose, just to hear the sound of the glass shattering. And, that was BEFORE the computer took a three hour shit and the TV decided to die on it's own or else I scared it to death, one. Eric and Paul fixed the computer and I went out and just bought a new TV, so I'm pretty much recovered from alla that, but one of what I believe was the many causes of the storm is still around. That'd be my little Scarface terrorist buddy. So, really... don't fuck with me, okay? Cause, the number one most important thing you need to know is that I'm not at all scared of going to jail.
M'kay? Just thought I's letcha know. Try to keep it in mind.
After all... the life you save may be your own.
*Sam Elliot look*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Whew. I do feel ever s'much better now. Last night was suckin' ROCKS for a while there. BUT, that's all fixed and over with, so I'mina NOT keep thinking about it. I'm also not gonna think about the mess that it this house. Nope. Not gunna think about it. Just gonna concentrate on the idea that I have seven lil ol hours to get through over there, money to make and that I'm off, off, OFF after that. Ain't nuthin' nor anybody to get all het up over.
Ain't nuthin' but a thang. Eeeeverything's fine.
And, it's gonna (goddamed) stay that way.
*giggle* Any spare "good thoughts" y'all could think my way would be gratefully and greatly appreciated.
Ya know?
*rolls eyes Heavenward* Peace
Comments
1
Is this someone you work with?
Posted by: Mad Mikey at December 02, 2004 05:37 PM (ysS8l)
2
Hi Love,
Don't worry about thinkin' about stranglin'
people. You haven't had to deal with the (generally) fucked-up public for quite a while.
(Bill, his wacko employees, and odd family don't
count. Hmmm, maybe they CAN'T count...). You've been living in a rather deprived and insular
condition for a while-no car, no license, no real Daun-earned cash coming in,etc-you haven't had to
go to work (off the farm) and play 'Dealing with Dickheads' five or six days a week. It takes
practice to get back into the groove. And the first few weeks are quite difficult. Like Basic
Training. Or Parris Island. "Holy shit, am I ever going to survive this crap?" Sorta like jumping into ice-cold water. Your entire body and brains
sure ain't enjoying it...but after five minutes or so, you're starting to get used to it, and after ten, you don't even notice it. You have the personality, humor, brains and psychic armor,
to come out way ahead of the aforementioned Dickheads. And, as you are already aware of, they
pay you for this crap! It'll get easier as you get back into it. And....if you decide to quit,
you won't have to go two miles in any direction to get your next waitress job. Unlike fired High-Techers, waitresses can get another job within
twenty-four hours. You, my dear, are a hot commodity. And them there green-backs are great medicine for the headaches.
Hang in there,Babe, you got the talent for it.
Love,
Dad
Hi Love,
Don't worry about thinkin' about stranglin'
people. You haven't had to deal with the (generally) fucked-up public for quite a while.
(Bill, his wacko employees, and odd family don't
count. Hmmm, maybe they CAN'T count...). You've been living in a rather deprived and insular
condition for a while-no car, no license, no real Daun-earned cash coming in,etc-you haven't had to
go to work (off the farm) and play 'Dealing with Dickheads' five or six days a week. It takes
practice to get back into the groove. And the first few weeks are quite difficult. Like Basic
Training. Or Parris Island. "Holy shit, am I ever going to survive this crap?" Sorta like jumping into ice-cold water. Your entire body and brains
sure ain't enjoying it...but after five minutes or so, you're starting to get used to it, and after ten, you don't even notice it. You have the personality, humor, brains and psychic armor,
to come out way ahead of the aforementioned Dickheads. And, as you are already aware of, they
pay you for this crap! It'll get easier as you get back into it. And....if you decide to quit,
you won't have to go two miles in any direction to get your next waitress job. Unlike fired High-Techers, waitresses can get another job within
twenty-four hours. You, my dear, are a hot commodity. And them there green-backs are great medicine for the headaches.
Hang in there,Babe, you got the talent for it.
Love,
Dad
Posted by: haveayen at December 03, 2004 02:45 AM (X3UAW)
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