The List
Ok, this is a list. It may be a long list. I don't know, yet. Let's find out together, shall we?
Sub-heading: Things That Piss Me Off
Are you with me, so far?
Ok.
Item One. I am related to retards. They're not the regular kind of retards (think chest slapping "Duh!" and lots of drool) but the criminal, the insane, the Hannibal Lecters of Retardia. If Retard were a destination, they would live there year round. The tourist trade would suck but they'd get lots of them, anyway, because tourists are, also, retarded. (If you've ever been a tourist, I'm talking about YOU. Just to be clear.) I am surrounded by retards and it pisses me off. Do you understand? Re-read if you have to. I'll wait for you at Item Two.
Item Two. Some of the retards are trying to procreate but the only people they can find to carry out this gruesome task are the ****** and the sex freaks that like to flash you from a hallway closet at 3 in the forsaken A.M. or they like to insert various appendages into your shoes and c** into the leather while listening to Ethel Merman and imagining what it would be like to be one of the pretty girls. I'm tired of these ******** ******** getting together with the retards and then molesting the end results of their union and the Downfall of Mankind. You want to know what Armageddon / Ragnarok / We're All ******** looks like? Take a look at my Great Aunt Stumpie and the ****** Podiatrists' Assistant, the Foot ********. If that isn't Armageddon, then nothing ******** is.
Item Three. My grandmother is a Christian harpie. She carries a bible and she's willing to use it! She also carries holy water. Watch yourself. She's out there, converting your children because that shoulda been your job but you done ******** it up by letting the kids think what they want to and form their own opinions (Enlightenment = Satan). Bad parent. No bikkit! She's quite funny and makes me laugh. She makes me mad, sometimes, too. Not in what she says but what she does. The retards could push the button that launches Nuclear Anihilation but she would still be out there helping them. Blood is thicker than water with her and that would be alright if it hadn't been for the Foot ******** and Stumpie. Blood isn't thicker than that bullshit. So, we get mauled in court in front of the Foot ******** and Stumpie and their smug little rat terrier of a lawyer (when it finally GOT to court which took forever because anytime anyone of note came near the facts concerning the case, they turned green and said "Oh, that's sick!" Yeah, that really helped a lot Hamilton county. Go ******** yourselves with a pair of salad tongs and a blowtorch. ********.) and then he gets off with a slap on the wrist and a smirk and that FREAK still gets to be part of the family and go to the family reunions filled with children they haven't had a chance to molest YET? ******** THAT s**t! Are we clear here? THAT IS ******** BULLSHIT ON A RUSTY TIN PLATE! I don't care who you are, how you're related, what you want or where in the hell you've been, if you mess with a child, YOU ARE A ******** SICKO THAT NEEDS TO BE PUT DOWN LIKE A DOG. (For the uninitiated, when the letters go to "ALL CAPS" mode, that means I'm shouting. Now, back to your regularly scheduled rant.) The family member that helps someone get away with molesting a child is just as guilty as the molester, as guilty as if they'd been the one there, dropping their pants. You get me? Your friends are that child's enemies. And every family member that condones that behaviour as well as from hiding it from the police? You're an accessory. Every single ******** one of you. Grandma, Stumpie, Little Hitler, Jan, the list is endless. That ******** gets all the help he needs and everyone (with only a few exceptions) remains quiet and fine and ok with it. He's a child predator, he preys upon them, and you ALL help him continue to do so. You're all guilty and the thought fills me with revulsion and shame. I'm ashamed of you all. A bunch of ******** child molesters, the LOT of you. The few that are willing to speak out about it, to say something about it, they get shunned. The molester gets courted and the defenders get shunned. What ******** logic is THAT? (If you said "there isn't any logic in that" then congratulations - you're not related to me).
Item Four. My mother's (various) lovers. We shall begin with Steve. I grew up with him since I was about a year old. I've always known him. He's always tried to be a father to me but he's also always failed. Nowadays, all I can get out of him are yells. He talks about wanting to kill me when he gets really mad. I know there's a large gap between 'talking about' something and 'actually doing' something but that don't mean the words don't hurt. He's all about my mother and he sticks up for her and he buys her stuff and he keeps the house clean for her and watches the kids and cooks and, hell, he's a regular "Mister Mom" without all those Michael Keaton good looks getting in the way. At some point, he gave my mother his balls and no one has seen them since. I think she ate them. With salt. Maybe a pickle on the side. Chips, too. And a drink. Like a twisted hellish version of "Burger King", she had it her way. Of course, this wasn't really an issue until my mother got together with this trucker retard named 'Jody' (who in hell names their kid that, anyway?) and, in her fashion, waved him around like a banner for all too see. Not sure why, but she wanted everybody to know about it. Those I've asked say they don't have a clue why she did that, either. Doesn't mean I haven't thought about it and, based on my mom's behaviour and things she's said, I think she did it just to be plain old mean. Had to hurt Steve a lot when that happened and while this was taking place, me and my brother was being tossed around like a pinball inside a three-sided pinball machine. Talk about weird-assed love triangles, check this s**t out. Seriously. So, now there's like another brother and this 'Jody' ******** is his daddy, and Bubba is Steve's seed, and my daddy is somewhere out in the sticks of Arkansas trying to farm dirt. Don't pay too well, dirt farming. But somebody's gotta do it. The more guys seem to want my mom, the more she seems to want to have. Now, let's talk about this 'Jody' guy. He's a truck driving imbecile. He's not retarded, just plain old stupid. I think I know why my mom likes this idiot so much - it's because 'Jody' reminds her of my dad, her ex-husband, Ron. And when Steve asked my mom to marry him, she just freaked and responded with producing 'Jody'. Yaknow, ma, you coulda just said "No." It woulda been at least humane. And then mom got pregnant with Buckwheat (my aunt honestly thinks that it says 'Buckwheat' on this child's birth certificate and has no idea that he has any other name - for her, the child is forever tainted with the image of a small dark child saying "Otay, Spanky!" My aunt is twisted.) and everything went to s**t. I found out that ma was pregg-o while I was waiting in line to go into a Haunted House in Chattanooga. She told me who's kid it was then, too. After that, there isn't much else scary about the evening. Meh. She shoulda held that s**t til the end. Way to harsh my mellow, mommy.
Item Five. Maternal Granny & Grampy. You two suck. If you two could stop trying to kill each other for a few seconds, the world would be a brighter place. Jeezus jumping Christ on a Pogo Stick. When he isn't yelling at her to wake up because he thinks she's dead (really, Pappaw, if she were dead, would she still sit up and tell you so?) so that when she does keel over, it'll be from sleep deprivation, then she's going off at him in her loudest, harpie-erist fashion, screaming about his medicine, or his paranoia, or his forgetfulness, or his idiocy (to be fair, he gives her lots of material to work with). Constant bitching, bickering, and nagging and they wonder why in hell I wanna turn the radio on in the car? Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot, over? I want the radio on to SHUT YOU PEOPLE UP. You b***h too much. Shut the ******** up, already. Thank you. Don't slap me either or my publisher will sue you.
This manuscript is on its way to Harper Collins right now. Wish me luck, granny!
Item Six. School sucks. Teachers suck even worse because there's a required down payment of "kiss my a** and like it" that I refuse to pay. I hate drama yet, lo and behold!, school got the drama. It's oozing out of the school like zit cream and coca cola. The kids in school suck so bad, I wanna hook hoses to their face and clean the ******** floors. They can kiss my a** and I don't care if they like it or not. ******** them. Then there's the shrinks and the therapists and the doctors and they all "just want me to feel better" by pretending to like the things they find acceptable and to shun reality. You want me to feel better, you ********? Then gimme a gun, a 24 hour license to shoot whatever the ******** I want, and watch while I chlorinate the gene pool. Oh, wait. Not acceptable. Well, ******** you. Gimme some morphine, then. Or a joint. Oh, that's illegal? Well, ******** you, too. You go over there and read law books. Me, I'm going over to this dark alley and see if I can get some primo Columbian ju-ju. See ya. ********.
Item Seven. Lucky number seven. Top o' the world, Ma! It's your turn. Aside from all the things she says and does, I still love her. This is what I gotta say about her: her mustache is bigger than my Uncle Bob's. Trim that s**t, yo. Like watching a walrus talk to me without the tusks. Looks! It's Lando Calrissian's sister for Colt 45! The smoothest malt beverage in the galaxy. Yum. Puts hair on your teeth and makes foogly women everywhere seem somewhat attractive. Yaay. When mom isn't nagging about every single thing that I am (or, in some cases, am not) doing, she's out with her boyfriends and neglecting her children. She doesn't spend time with us; she spends money on us. Not the same thing and certainly far less valuable. She thinks that just paying for a child means that you are a fit mother. That you bring home the bacon so you shouldn't have to actually watch it curing. Her idea of spending time with a child is to sit in front of a television with it. There's no talking, no communication, no honest reaching out - there's just 'Starsky & Hutch'. What the ********, ma? She's got zero self-worth and looks to find meaning and sanity and a feeling of worthiness inside the eyes of some guy, any guy. Hello, mother, that's one helluva message to send to your teenaged daughter - that you're only a worthwhile person as long as some man wants to ******** you. That's bullshit. What are you gonna do when you're saggy (even more than you already are), and wrinkley, and your puss looks more like a shriveled up elephant puss (sidenote: ewwww) and the only guys that wanna nail you smell like Ben Gay and reek of back/ear hair? (Again: ewwwww) Why do you hate yourself so much? Why is it that the only time I get a compliment out of you is if I'm wearing make-up or I'm losing weight? WTF? Hell, why do you hate me so much? If you didn't, you'd share things with me, you'd talk to me, you'd spend time with me. Instead, I get overlooked in favor of some retarded truckdriver that couldn't tie his own shoes unless they were velcro. ******** that bullshit. Because that's what it is - it's bullshit. I've got worth, I've got value, and I don't get that from some guy I went bump in the night with, I get that from inside. Someone sold you a bill of goods and you thought you had to keep it. Send that s**t back and call the manager and get a ******** refund already! You're too old for this s**t. I get to watch Steve tailing you to your boyfriend's houses, watching you rip his heart out over and over and over again, while he went apeshit and would talk about getting a gun and I'd have to call Mammaw and she'd have to call the cops. WTF? This ain't an episode of 'Jerry Springer', b***h. Stop acting like this! Stop being an idiot! I know you've got a mind, why in the hell aren't you using it? The most important part of you isn't between your legs! Get that through your head, woman. You're the reason that I gave up on school, the reason that I ran away, the reason why I tried to OD, it was always you. It wasn't my friends, it wasn't not the family, or the ****** - it was you, mainly you. You always feel like s**t about yourself and you try to make me feel bad about myself and that sucks. There is no support, no love, no connection - there's just you, chasing off after some guy in some weird attempt to make Steve see you as being as pointless as you feel that you are. You want justification for feeling like s**t, then look to your actions because those are s**t. If you want to be loved, then you have to do things that make you a loveable person. Skanking around with a truckdriver is NOT on that list. Treating your kids like commodoties instead of people, that ain't on the list, either. Just because you can push a baby out from between your legs doesn't mean you're a momma. Anybody can procreate. Only the ones that actually try can actually earn the moniker "Mommy".
Item Eight. My favorite number! As they say,"Save the best for last" Ive done just that for these few people;Steph,Bob,Dad,Heather,and Granny Fern. You all have been the only people who have gained my love and trust without a single scratch against you. While the rest of the retards (family and such) have tried desperatly to lower my opinions of you,you yourselves have done nothing to me to back up everything they say. Maybe their just jelous! You all have shown me a love and honesty that anyone else in my family have yet to even tease me with. Granny,you are sweet and kind and have always shown me love. And even though everyone else has been not so sure about your new husband,Im just happy that you are happy! Heather,even though Ive not known you very long,Ive come to love and relate to you. My father loves you and you love him,and thats wonderful to me! Father,My mother has tried her damn-dest to put you down and make me see you in a bad way,but my personal experience of you is nothing short of wonderful. You may be quiet and resurved,but you have done nothing but love me and show me your world! Bob,You have been my second yet main father figure in my life. Thank you Bob. You have loved me and drove away guys for me with a shotgun by your side. Showing me that I need no man to keep on living fully (Unlike my mother)! Steph,You are my hero,my drive for informatiom,and my angelic demon from hell! You make me laugh and give me knowledge and have been the mother I have never known! I love you Steph. I LOVE YOU ALL!
See im not just a nagging teenager hating and dissing my family...That was just for those that deserved it! biggrin
Ok, this is a list. It may be a long list. I don't know, yet. Let's find out together, shall we?
Sub-heading: Things That Piss Me Off
Are you with me, so far?
Ok.
Item One. I am related to retards. They're not the regular kind of retards (think chest slapping "Duh!" and lots of drool) but the criminal, the insane, the Hannibal Lecters of Retardia. If Retard were a destination, they would live there year round. The tourist trade would suck but they'd get lots of them, anyway, because tourists are, also, retarded. (If you've ever been a tourist, I'm talking about YOU. Just to be clear.) I am surrounded by retards and it pisses me off. Do you understand? Re-read if you have to. I'll wait for you at Item Two.
Item Two. Some of the retards are trying to procreate but the only people they can find to carry out this gruesome task are the ****** and the sex freaks that like to flash you from a hallway closet at 3 in the forsaken A.M. or they like to insert various appendages into your shoes and c** into the leather while listening to Ethel Merman and imagining what it would be like to be one of the pretty girls. I'm tired of these ******** ******** getting together with the retards and then molesting the end results of their union and the Downfall of Mankind. You want to know what Armageddon / Ragnarok / We're All ******** looks like? Take a look at my Great Aunt Stumpie and the ****** Podiatrists' Assistant, the Foot ********. If that isn't Armageddon, then nothing ******** is.
Item Three. My grandmother is a Christian harpie. She carries a bible and she's willing to use it! She also carries holy water. Watch yourself. She's out there, converting your children because that shoulda been your job but you done ******** it up by letting the kids think what they want to and form their own opinions (Enlightenment = Satan). Bad parent. No bikkit! She's quite funny and makes me laugh. She makes me mad, sometimes, too. Not in what she says but what she does. The retards could push the button that launches Nuclear Anihilation but she would still be out there helping them. Blood is thicker than water with her and that would be alright if it hadn't been for the Foot ******** and Stumpie. Blood isn't thicker than that bullshit. So, we get mauled in court in front of the Foot ******** and Stumpie and their smug little rat terrier of a lawyer (when it finally GOT to court which took forever because anytime anyone of note came near the facts concerning the case, they turned green and said "Oh, that's sick!" Yeah, that really helped a lot Hamilton county. Go ******** yourselves with a pair of salad tongs and a blowtorch. ********.) and then he gets off with a slap on the wrist and a smirk and that FREAK still gets to be part of the family and go to the family reunions filled with children they haven't had a chance to molest YET? ******** THAT s**t! Are we clear here? THAT IS ******** BULLSHIT ON A RUSTY TIN PLATE! I don't care who you are, how you're related, what you want or where in the hell you've been, if you mess with a child, YOU ARE A ******** SICKO THAT NEEDS TO BE PUT DOWN LIKE A DOG. (For the uninitiated, when the letters go to "ALL CAPS" mode, that means I'm shouting. Now, back to your regularly scheduled rant.) The family member that helps someone get away with molesting a child is just as guilty as the molester, as guilty as if they'd been the one there, dropping their pants. You get me? Your friends are that child's enemies. And every family member that condones that behaviour as well as from hiding it from the police? You're an accessory. Every single ******** one of you. Grandma, Stumpie, Little Hitler, Jan, the list is endless. That ******** gets all the help he needs and everyone (with only a few exceptions) remains quiet and fine and ok with it. He's a child predator, he preys upon them, and you ALL help him continue to do so. You're all guilty and the thought fills me with revulsion and shame. I'm ashamed of you all. A bunch of ******** child molesters, the LOT of you. The few that are willing to speak out about it, to say something about it, they get shunned. The molester gets courted and the defenders get shunned. What ******** logic is THAT? (If you said "there isn't any logic in that" then congratulations - you're not related to me).
Item Four. My mother's (various) lovers. We shall begin with Steve. I grew up with him since I was about a year old. I've always known him. He's always tried to be a father to me but he's also always failed. Nowadays, all I can get out of him are yells. He talks about wanting to kill me when he gets really mad. I know there's a large gap between 'talking about' something and 'actually doing' something but that don't mean the words don't hurt. He's all about my mother and he sticks up for her and he buys her stuff and he keeps the house clean for her and watches the kids and cooks and, hell, he's a regular "Mister Mom" without all those Michael Keaton good looks getting in the way. At some point, he gave my mother his balls and no one has seen them since. I think she ate them. With salt. Maybe a pickle on the side. Chips, too. And a drink. Like a twisted hellish version of "Burger King", she had it her way. Of course, this wasn't really an issue until my mother got together with this trucker retard named 'Jody' (who in hell names their kid that, anyway?) and, in her fashion, waved him around like a banner for all too see. Not sure why, but she wanted everybody to know about it. Those I've asked say they don't have a clue why she did that, either. Doesn't mean I haven't thought about it and, based on my mom's behaviour and things she's said, I think she did it just to be plain old mean. Had to hurt Steve a lot when that happened and while this was taking place, me and my brother was being tossed around like a pinball inside a three-sided pinball machine. Talk about weird-assed love triangles, check this s**t out. Seriously. So, now there's like another brother and this 'Jody' ******** is his daddy, and Bubba is Steve's seed, and my daddy is somewhere out in the sticks of Arkansas trying to farm dirt. Don't pay too well, dirt farming. But somebody's gotta do it. The more guys seem to want my mom, the more she seems to want to have. Now, let's talk about this 'Jody' guy. He's a truck driving imbecile. He's not retarded, just plain old stupid. I think I know why my mom likes this idiot so much - it's because 'Jody' reminds her of my dad, her ex-husband, Ron. And when Steve asked my mom to marry him, she just freaked and responded with producing 'Jody'. Yaknow, ma, you coulda just said "No." It woulda been at least humane. And then mom got pregnant with Buckwheat (my aunt honestly thinks that it says 'Buckwheat' on this child's birth certificate and has no idea that he has any other name - for her, the child is forever tainted with the image of a small dark child saying "Otay, Spanky!" My aunt is twisted.) and everything went to s**t. I found out that ma was pregg-o while I was waiting in line to go into a Haunted House in Chattanooga. She told me who's kid it was then, too. After that, there isn't much else scary about the evening. Meh. She shoulda held that s**t til the end. Way to harsh my mellow, mommy.
Item Five. Maternal Granny & Grampy. You two suck. If you two could stop trying to kill each other for a few seconds, the world would be a brighter place. Jeezus jumping Christ on a Pogo Stick. When he isn't yelling at her to wake up because he thinks she's dead (really, Pappaw, if she were dead, would she still sit up and tell you so?) so that when she does keel over, it'll be from sleep deprivation, then she's going off at him in her loudest, harpie-erist fashion, screaming about his medicine, or his paranoia, or his forgetfulness, or his idiocy (to be fair, he gives her lots of material to work with). Constant bitching, bickering, and nagging and they wonder why in hell I wanna turn the radio on in the car? Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot, over? I want the radio on to SHUT YOU PEOPLE UP. You b***h too much. Shut the ******** up, already. Thank you. Don't slap me either or my publisher will sue you.
This manuscript is on its way to Harper Collins right now. Wish me luck, granny!
Item Six. School sucks. Teachers suck even worse because there's a required down payment of "kiss my a** and like it" that I refuse to pay. I hate drama yet, lo and behold!, school got the drama. It's oozing out of the school like zit cream and coca cola. The kids in school suck so bad, I wanna hook hoses to their face and clean the ******** floors. They can kiss my a** and I don't care if they like it or not. ******** them. Then there's the shrinks and the therapists and the doctors and they all "just want me to feel better" by pretending to like the things they find acceptable and to shun reality. You want me to feel better, you ********? Then gimme a gun, a 24 hour license to shoot whatever the ******** I want, and watch while I chlorinate the gene pool. Oh, wait. Not acceptable. Well, ******** you. Gimme some morphine, then. Or a joint. Oh, that's illegal? Well, ******** you, too. You go over there and read law books. Me, I'm going over to this dark alley and see if I can get some primo Columbian ju-ju. See ya. ********.
Item Seven. Lucky number seven. Top o' the world, Ma! It's your turn. Aside from all the things she says and does, I still love her. This is what I gotta say about her: her mustache is bigger than my Uncle Bob's. Trim that s**t, yo. Like watching a walrus talk to me without the tusks. Looks! It's Lando Calrissian's sister for Colt 45! The smoothest malt beverage in the galaxy. Yum. Puts hair on your teeth and makes foogly women everywhere seem somewhat attractive. Yaay. When mom isn't nagging about every single thing that I am (or, in some cases, am not) doing, she's out with her boyfriends and neglecting her children. She doesn't spend time with us; she spends money on us. Not the same thing and certainly far less valuable. She thinks that just paying for a child means that you are a fit mother. That you bring home the bacon so you shouldn't have to actually watch it curing. Her idea of spending time with a child is to sit in front of a television with it. There's no talking, no communication, no honest reaching out - there's just 'Starsky & Hutch'. What the ********, ma? She's got zero self-worth and looks to find meaning and sanity and a feeling of worthiness inside the eyes of some guy, any guy. Hello, mother, that's one helluva message to send to your teenaged daughter - that you're only a worthwhile person as long as some man wants to ******** you. That's bullshit. What are you gonna do when you're saggy (even more than you already are), and wrinkley, and your puss looks more like a shriveled up elephant puss (sidenote: ewwww) and the only guys that wanna nail you smell like Ben Gay and reek of back/ear hair? (Again: ewwwww) Why do you hate yourself so much? Why is it that the only time I get a compliment out of you is if I'm wearing make-up or I'm losing weight? WTF? Hell, why do you hate me so much? If you didn't, you'd share things with me, you'd talk to me, you'd spend time with me. Instead, I get overlooked in favor of some retarded truckdriver that couldn't tie his own shoes unless they were velcro. ******** that bullshit. Because that's what it is - it's bullshit. I've got worth, I've got value, and I don't get that from some guy I went bump in the night with, I get that from inside. Someone sold you a bill of goods and you thought you had to keep it. Send that s**t back and call the manager and get a ******** refund already! You're too old for this s**t. I get to watch Steve tailing you to your boyfriend's houses, watching you rip his heart out over and over and over again, while he went apeshit and would talk about getting a gun and I'd have to call Mammaw and she'd have to call the cops. WTF? This ain't an episode of 'Jerry Springer', b***h. Stop acting like this! Stop being an idiot! I know you've got a mind, why in the hell aren't you using it? The most important part of you isn't between your legs! Get that through your head, woman. You're the reason that I gave up on school, the reason that I ran away, the reason why I tried to OD, it was always you. It wasn't my friends, it wasn't not the family, or the ****** - it was you, mainly you. You always feel like s**t about yourself and you try to make me feel bad about myself and that sucks. There is no support, no love, no connection - there's just you, chasing off after some guy in some weird attempt to make Steve see you as being as pointless as you feel that you are. You want justification for feeling like s**t, then look to your actions because those are s**t. If you want to be loved, then you have to do things that make you a loveable person. Skanking around with a truckdriver is NOT on that list. Treating your kids like commodoties instead of people, that ain't on the list, either. Just because you can push a baby out from between your legs doesn't mean you're a momma. Anybody can procreate. Only the ones that actually try can actually earn the moniker "Mommy".
Item Eight. My favorite number! As they say,"Save the best for last" Ive done just that for these few people;Steph,Bob,Dad,Heather,and Granny Fern. You all have been the only people who have gained my love and trust without a single scratch against you. While the rest of the retards (family and such) have tried desperatly to lower my opinions of you,you yourselves have done nothing to me to back up everything they say. Maybe their just jelous! You all have shown me a love and honesty that anyone else in my family have yet to even tease me with. Granny,you are sweet and kind and have always shown me love. And even though everyone else has been not so sure about your new husband,Im just happy that you are happy! Heather,even though Ive not known you very long,Ive come to love and relate to you. My father loves you and you love him,and thats wonderful to me! Father,My mother has tried her damn-dest to put you down and make me see you in a bad way,but my personal experience of you is nothing short of wonderful. You may be quiet and resurved,but you have done nothing but love me and show me your world! Bob,You have been my second yet main father figure in my life. Thank you Bob. You have loved me and drove away guys for me with a shotgun by your side. Showing me that I need no man to keep on living fully (Unlike my mother)! Steph,You are my hero,my drive for informatiom,and my angelic demon from hell! You make me laugh and give me knowledge and have been the mother I have never known! I love you Steph. I LOVE YOU ALL!
See im not just a nagging teenager hating and dissing my family...That was just for those that deserved it! biggrin
