Have I told you why the whole planet can bite my ass today?

  • I was violated. My purse was snatched. I was mugged. A thief took the one and only real lady purse that I have ever owned and liked plus one funky new slime green wallet. Bastard.
  • Saviabella and I were on our way to our local tattoo parlour when we had a minor traffic mishap. No cars or people were injured, and it was hardly even scary, but then the guy followed us menacingly for several minutes around our city's downtown. I spent most of the slow-motion chase with my eyes raised to the sun visor and asking out loud why people suck so much.

    We would not have been as affected by it if the last time we drove to and from the tattoo parlour did not also involve a slow chase through the streets until we managed to lose them with a sharp turn into an alley. Since when has it become custom in Cityville to chase down women in their vehicles in broad daylight on highly trafficked streets?!

  • The Fiery One was plagiarized. Again with the thieving theme in our lives. Lizzie, in particular, can bite my ass. I have contacted Open Diary and alerted them about her actions.
  • I went to a party and felt extremely awkward around lawyers and radio execs. They all seemed nice, which is kind of a good thing, but standing around and making nice chit chat makes me a terribly angry person. I usually feel the urge to shout at the nice person This is not a conversation. What makes you think this is a conversation? This is a conversation template that both you and I have revisited thousands and thousands of times. This is not a conversation! Yeah, I know. I am so freaking well-adjusted that you wish you were me.
  • The Fiery One has lost fifteen pounds, which means that he is now fifteen pounds lighter than me. I know that my issue with this has to do with my internalization of society's unnecessary standards regarding male/female coupling and relative physical size, but still, I don't like it. And you can't make me.
  • The Fiery One and I are leaving for Costa Rica on the 19th, and I have to do some running around before then to replace my purse-napped ID and get shots and whatnot, so I was very much hoping that I would not have to add in the stress of doing a special Christmas thing before the trip. I hate running around, I am not the biggest fan of Christmas, and I need lots of down time to avoid becoming a freak. Now my family wants to come down, stay over in our apartment, and on top of that, my mother has asked if she can invite some cousins over as well. I WON'T HAVE IT.

    I don't like entertaining in my house. It makes me feel overwhelmed with my inability to escape. I thought I was fairly clear about the fact that I did not want to have to do a bunch of planning or running around when we could just get together in January, so I resent being put into a position where I have to say NO, I DON'T WANT PEOPLE IN MY HOUSE, BECAUSE I DO NOT CARE ENOUGH ABOUT THIS HOLIDAY TO PUT MYSELF THROUGH THE STRESS.

  • The Fiery One been suffering a lot of work-related stress, and that makes me angrier than hell. I am shaking my fist futilely, raging against the inhumanity of his working through weekends and many suppers!
  • Today, I am a bitter and angry mofo. I feel like everyone has some freaking agenda. I am going to go bury myself in a vat of buttered popcorn and zone out on television. There has been far too much stealing, plagiarizing, stalking, and button-pushing over the last couple of weeks. Enough already!

    Have I shown you my friend's belly? Here it is.

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    Have you heard The Flickr Song yet?

    Have you read this poetry before?

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    "Be Angry at the Sun" by Robinson Jeffers

    The Selected Poetry of Robinson Jeffers