Who’s down with LVP? Not you, not me

First of all, I LOVE me some Lisa Vanderpump — the one on “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” and “Vanderpump Rules.”

I am NOT the slightest bit enamored with MY “Lisa VanderPump” — LVP. To say the least. The very least.

Not overly certain how someone who has maybe worked five full days in their career …

Who is brilliant at bullshitting their way into massive salaries, big titles, bigger bonuses and falsely selling their superiors on their so-called indispensability …

Who never saw fit to promote me despite calling me by a higher title …

Who wrote horrible reviews for me that painted me as aspiring to mediocrity on a good day …

Who publicly embarrassed me on group calls that said person couldn’t even spell correctly on the meeting reminders they put on our calendars …

(Oh and no one else got that treatment — one other person got private reamings and the rest got left alone. And for both of us, 99% of those reamings were for not working on projects said absentee person never TOLD us about) …

Who didn’t even say thank you for the $60 birthday cake or the $50 birthday booze and didn’t even acknowledge me with a happy birthday that year …

And who — among other ridiculous things — got everyone ELSE fired after attracting a million-dollar lawsuit against the company and its owner …

Is now entitled to the charred remains of the dream this person sold to us in a (successful) effort to get us all to work around the clock to make that person “famous.”

And the fact that this person is back to BARKING UP OUR ASSES to jump to serve said person is like a battered wife being told she has to give her abuser the dog, too.

I have been working on a reply in my mind. But I am enjoying the silence an awful lot. I know LVP is motherfucking me in their mind.

I mean, it’s not like LVP could speak to me with a modicum of respect or the awe I deserved for being one of the wizards behind the curtain that made the puppet dance.

That hurt me in a big way. The not having my name on anything. I hear my name was never credited for anything either. So I had to work very hard to show folks I am capable and was working my ass off all along.

They see that now. And they don’t know the depth of my rage. But they know that for me to refuse to comply with a command from LVP, I have reasons.

They all finally figured out that everything was smoke and mirrors. And my guess is this no-strings-attached “gift” my friend and I are to provide to LVP is less an OB tampon and more like a compact cooter plug. One where the string is hidden inside the smaller pouch.

(Compact cooter plug. I may have to save that for a future nickname …)

In any event, I know LVP comes here looking for answers. And I’ll put it right here …

I jumped for you on every occasion. I lost out on nights and weekends and time with my mom and friends. I was kind to you at all times and listened to your stupid stories about your arrests and all the money you spent on things I’d never be able to afford because you said I was too “expensive” so I clearly was never going to get a raise. I stopped talking to my editors who actually loved me, just so you could stop needling me and egging me on, claiming “you knew” I was talking to them when I wasn’t. You’re a liar and a miserable person.

Oh and thanks for those casual bullshit comments made to (I guess former) future potential employers. But funny about people who repeat things back to me — they have a LOT more to say than what they heard.

Sorry karma’s teeth are sharp. I really do want you to be happy. I just wish this had all made you nicer instead of making me harder.

Can I Get an 'Amen'?