I heard that the biggest cunt in all the lands (I figure that’s vague enough since there are SO MANY OF THEM) is up to no good again.
I also hear that great things are happening for her.
I’m getting a little sick of karma getting lost on the way to her doorstep. Why must evil be rewarded so richly and so instantly?
One day she’s going to go up in flames. And I’m going to be toasting s’mores over her crispy carcass. I’d just like that day to come sooner rather than later.
1. The Candidate from Hell aced his editing test. So I’m imagining the two very very “interesting” editing tests I’ve received this week mean these people won’t give me nightmares should I decide to hire either of them.
1.a. Boy am I going to have my hands full, either way. Might as well stock up the liquor cabinet now.
1.b. I finally see a vacation day in my future. Probably after those days expire, but still. Vacation.
2. I had someone try to out-asshole someone else yesterday. Which, I had to tell Person B, hey, don’t be an asshole to me because Person A is an asshole to you. Person A already desensitized me to your kind. You are a pretty big asshole but you will NEVER wear the crown. Got it?
3. Speaking of assholes, I had to apply for CareCredit at my dentist since I apparently will owe them four grand for my toofs. And the financing lady looked at my annual income and said, “That’s per month, right?” This is what I get for living in an affluent ZIP code. She looked at me piteously when I said I have to live on that amount FOR A WHOLE YEAR.
Oh who am I kidding. These aren’t things I think. These are things I SAY.
I overheard some guy two cubes over on the phone with an employee we (rightfully) booted to the curb. Guess Moody McMoodalicious is a contractor now.
Reminded me of Ye Olde Employment Establishment, where we tossed the a-hole who was sexually harassing his subordinates, but rehired him (and probably at a higher salary) to do his job from home. Or when we marched the two supervisors from the back hallway who ran off every employee by their one-year anniversary to the door and changed the locks … only to have them form their own company and we paid them millions more.
Basically, it’s good to see the similarities between the companies don’t end. Glad I ended up on the teams that leave the whiny, trouble-making, NOT THAT TALENTED a-holes right on the curb where we left them.
1. How to Go From Working 60 Hours a Week to 40 By Sending 2 Emails a Week
Seriously? I am thrilled when I get it DOWN to 60 hours! If I get it down to 40, I’m going to see a unicorn farting out a rainbow of sparkle dust. MY EYES ARE NOT READY FOR THAT.
2. In addition to ex-stefather-type, another of Mom’s illustrious exes is hurt he didn’t hear from me this year. And Mom’s uncle yelled at her for only sending a card and not calling too.
You know, for two grown-ass women who don’t have daddies … and to who these men barely pay a whit of attention throughout the entire year … you’d think they’d mind their damn business. And my own great-uncle’s daughter didn’t even bother doing anything for him at all.
Ex-stepfather-type person told Mom he’s hurt that I didn’t wish him a Happy Father’s Day.
Well for fuck’s sake. Of course I thought of him yesterday.
And I cast a pox upon his house.
What more does he want?
How about answering any of my texts to, for the love of God, help me to help my mom? Since you are in the MEDICAL FIELD and she has CHRONIC AND ACUTE ILLNESSES?
Me: I just want to tell him to fuck off and die.
Me: Wait, you know what? That’s TOO MANY STEPS. Forget the fucking off. Just die, OK? DIE!
Friend: Your time management skills are awesome.
Just a small suggestion to improve Facebook.
I saw an old high school friend liking something posted by one of my high school enemies. I clicked on “I don’t want to see this.” Facebook asks why.
On the dropdown menu, “She is a cunt” would have been a more-fitting option than “This is spam/annoying.”
Hop to it, k?
I don’t need to rehash the news but if you missed it, the Twitter hashtag #YesAllWomen has all you need to know.
The best thing I’ve read is that it’s not that all men have been total douchelords to women, but rather that all women have endured some form of degradation, abuse or humiliation at the hands of a man.
I try not to go too deeply into my memory banks, or too specifically into detail. But yes, the latter part of that earlier statement is definitely true.
I think what’s been most-pervasive in my day is that men who are unattractive, underearners, underachievers or otherwise not exactly anybody’s dream come true have seemed to think I owed it to them to want to be with them, for the mere fact that I am not a skinny girl.
I’ve had a few even dare to say to me that I should be lucky to have any man look at me.
Some have also been fortunate enough to endure my left hook. Which, is pretty kickass, considering I’m a righty.
I wouldn’t say I am a vestal virgin by any means. But I remember some incidences throughout my long-gone youth where I settled, shall we say. Amy Schumer delivered a brilliant speech at the Ms. Gala into which you could insert my name one or three times.
That didn’t last long, though. I realized early on the power I wielded. They were LUCKY to have me. I was GIVING THEM time with me that I could have been spending alone or with someone else.
Do not DARE to even TRY to make me feel lesser than your lesser ass. That I am LUCKY to have you and you could do better but you’re slumming it with me.
KISS MAH PUDGY PORK ROAST ASS if that’s the attitude you dare to have around me.
So, yeah. Single and newly 40. And guess what? I never settled another day in my life after THAT revelation.
The thing is, there are enough people trying to make you feel stupider, slower, less “in” in all areas of your life. I rule my bed and what limited personal time I have.
And frankly it amuses me when men approach me like I should be rolling out a red carpet to have garnered their attention.
Like, really? Let me whip out my Facebook and introduce you to the high-quality guys I DID attract, thank you very much.
Anyway, no details. But memories, I haz ’em. Recent ones, too. VERY recent. I don’t need anyone to love me. But I also don’t need anyone who wants to tell/treat me they can do better.
THEN BY ALL MEANS DO SO. Because, I sure as hell will. It’s not that hard, actually.
The thing with granting yourself peace, it’s just like cleaning or eating right.
You can’t do it once and be good for life. You have to make the conscious choice to do it every single minute of every single day … or at least enough to make your body or house inhabitable, but on a cognitive level.
What I have loved about the type of job I’m in, is that I bond with top experts. They do their thing, I make them look better. They fuck up, I cover it up. I earn their undying gratitude, and we all live happily ever after. Whenever I need a favor, I gots the hookup.
And then there are people who suck the air out of the room and who throw you under the bus and back up over you a few times while never acknowledging how many times you lifted up that same bus and helped them out from under it.
I’m not looking for a parade for all I have done for them. God knows it doesn’t work like that. But escalating every little thing to crisis levels and trying to make me look like a slacker in public? Deserves a nice hot cuppa “shut the fuck up” dumped all over their pointy little heads.
It’s already hard enough most days to scrub my butt and toss on some clean scandalous gutchies. Pantyhose and makeup on top of it means I’m REALLY trying hard to keep it together. And to constantly be on the defensive is really, really messing with the inner peace I only catch fleeting glimpses of.
Karma may be a bitch, but I’m here now and I can be a MUCH bigger one. In case anybody missed THAT memo.
Peace out … the window once again.
“You stole my sanity
Now you are the enemy
Are you sure you wanna play this game?
Are you sure you wanna play it?”— Daughtry, “Traitor”
Saw Daughtry last night at SunFest. I showed up for The Bangles’ set at 2 p.m. (fucking fantastic) and stayed the whole time till he took the stage at 9 p.m. And OMG, fabulous.
Anyway, the lyric above stuck in my head in a way it hasn’t in my casual listening to his newest album.
I realized someone declared war on me a long time ago, and only now did I realize, hey, how many times do you really think you can dick around me with me and I’m just going to keep squirting lube in my ass to make it more-bearable?
It sucks when friends become the enemy. But it sucks far less that I spied it with my third eye a long time ago and, really, it was just a matter of time.
It’s been a while since I declared, “Fuck me and I will FUCK YOU BACK.”
It kind of feels good actually.
Even though I have no idea how to win at this juncture …