And while I’m awake

August 27th, 2015, 11:36 PM by Goddess

Everyone stop grabbing your guns like they’re you’re goddamned dick (or strap-on) because a crazy mofo shot productive members of society. Admit there’s a problem with the world instead of making it about you. Good people in my field died doing a job we are trained to do. Fuck your stupid gun. Fuck you everyone who prays this goes away, which it will too soon, and fuck the next nutjob who gets inspired by this bullshit and does it bigger and better next time. 



Just another work night

August 27th, 2015, 11:18 PM by Goddess

If Yo-Yo Ma’s little bastard children don’t quit rattling my ceiling, I will end then all. It’s quarter after midnight. I’m about to go rip someone’s weave out. 



I can’t even

August 27th, 2015, 8:47 AM by Goddess

I wish the shooting of two young, vibrant news anchors just outside of Roanoke by a nutty ex-employee would get more coverage.

We let go of four people in the past year. And hoo boy can we say “grudges,” boys and girls? Yes we can.

And I hang out by myself all day in a building that’s, shall we say, accessible.

Not to mention, I have nutty neighbors who are unstable at best and violent at worst. And to come out to my car yesterday to find BOTH were dead? Something’s rotten in Denmark, friends.

One of the big reasons I left D.C. was that Stalker Boy would never move away from the region. I figured he could find someone else to annoy.

But there’s batshit everywhere, friends. Commensurately more in Florida, it seems, although Virginia has an overabundance too. And I seem to keep stepping in it no matter where I call home.

In any event, I saw a friend post after the shooting yesterday to go hug someone you love. And it made me sort of stabby for reasons I usually discuss here but somehow just can’t right now.

Let’s just say with “Below Deck” starting its new season on Bravo TV (um, *squee*), it makes me think about how Kelley wore down the very emotionally guarded Jennice until she fell for him … and then he dropped her two weeks later.

Go hug someone you love. Ain’t me. I’ll hug my damn self since you all seem to want to give everything and then some to other people you don’t give half a damn about.

In the aftermath of the shooting, I’ll also get down on my knees and kiss the ground that no one has taken me out or truly hurt me, physically or mentally

I used to live in fear of “nothing special” happening for/to me. Now I wonder whether I shouldn’t embrace it.