I have come to terms with the fact that I am bipolar. No I haven’t actually been diagnosed, but crazy runs in the family so sufficed to say I’ve just decided. I’m moody. I have moments where I’m completely normal (meaning people don’t look at me like I’m going to take out a hospital wing of toddlers) and then there’s the times when I just can’t be consoled and I want to murder just to see my shank dripping blood. You know for the S&G of it. Here is just a sample of things that can and have set me off.
Colby Calliet – I will bitch slap the shit out of her if I ever have the chance I swear to god. I know you people love her and “she is so adorable and totally captures what it’s like to be a woman” and whatever but come on. I’m a woman, I hate her. And if I hear ‘Bubbly’ one more time in its entirety I will snap! You’ve been warned.
Coldplay – I know I’m classified as a whiney bitch, but come on guys what’s your excuse?
Jack Johnson – I know he’s all original and prolific but I can’t stand him and his soft gay tones. Or his lyrics being called genius. Fuck off.
Traffic - The fast lane is for people who intend on going faster than 5 mph over jackass! Oh and when did using a blinker become so hard? All it takes is the flick of a finger, are you really so cool and all of us telepathic so you don’t need to use it? I DIDN’T THINK SO.
People who lie – I lie, I lie all the time. It works for me. But when you catch people in lies and then having them gloss over it like you didn’t just catch them sets me off. I know your games you arrogant prick or stupid whore. Pick which ever term works at the time.
Work – I really don’t feel like the stipend you give me bi-weekly is enough to cover me being nice to people. Or working for that matter, oh and if you value your life… which most of you don’t – don’t ask me why so sad looking or tell me that I look really tired. I know. And I know how to cut car brakes to make it look like it was an accident, k thanks!
Those are just a few but I really needed to get that off my chest. Especially that hooker Colby! Play new songs on the radio, not ones that sixteen year old girls call to request and then automatically squeal at the end. What’s with the squealing? Did you win something? No you moron, so stop yelling at decibels that make my brain cells scream “KILL, KILL, KILL!”
Back to the I’m moody thing, I really am a moody bastard. It’s no ones fault. No one really knows what will set me off but when it happens it’s a glorious thing to behold. My blood pressure rises so I turn all red and then I yell & babble incoherently and make angry gestures. I really think I look like I’m having a stroke but whose to say I wont actually have one someday? So next time I look red and stutter about hating people and hoping they all die, just ask me some questions to clarify my health is not in jeopardy. Please I beg of you.
No comments:
Post a Comment