Monday, November 22, 2010

Another Reason Everything Is Not For Everyone....

When one blogs, it is a given that your shit is out there. Even if you are somewhat anonymous, and even if you are a somewhat private person who enjoys that some people enjoy your nonsense because it makes them feel better about their existence, makes them laugh, makes them think or it makes them touch themselves.
I am happy with all of that.
Entertaining truth is my thing. I don’t reveal alllllllllllll my thoughts- because I don’t like putting everything out there, that’s when people who don’t know you or you don’t like THINK they know you. Also, there are the bitches.
Bitches ruin things for everybody with their need to involve themselves in your life because they lack one of their own, or think they’re gossiping by repeating stuff you’ve written on your blog. Genius, like Facebook, if it’s on there, it’s out there. It’s honest and it’s me. My thoughts, my opinions and my perceptions of people and situations. Bitches find a way though. A way to ruin the fun and make me have to pull out my (verbal) gun.
I can’t fully blame bitches though because I chose to write a blog, and one expects people to read their blog…even people they don’t want to.
Yes, I sound asshat-y and whiny, but no one is perfect, yo. Though sometimes I seem close enough…HA!

Besides, nothing can ruin this glorious week. We all know how excited I get about Turkey Day- not the raping and pillaging part, but the family time and EATING. Let us not forget the Turkey Day poem I wrote last year:

Turkey Day Poem by Me

Almost faint with hunger, close to losing all that is cool
Hunger pang to memory spark
I know why this must be done
Why I wait and suffer, hoping that the chunks of time taken by movie watching
Will quiet the growls of my stomach
It yearns to be filled and it vows revenge if I continue to fill it
With coffee’s, spiked egg nogs and water
The game is over, no more toying around not when
Wine soaked seasoned meats massage my nostrils
I can see the mac n’ cheese waiting on the table
So innocent, yet so lethal with its cheese
Fighting the urge to sacrifice prayer for one nip of stuffing
My eyes water as the turkey is sliced and the meat falls off the bone
Speaking is not an option, unless I want my Super Hardcore tee to be drenched in saliva
When the first forkful passes through my lips and into my mouth
It is like Sam Cooke is singing and there are shirtless Native American male teen-wolves
Singing and dancing around me
A warm feeling passes through me and after plate one is done
A familiar feeling, the ‘itis takes over
And there I am slumped over, food lust filled
Crumbs rest on the corners of my mouth
Eyes are like venetian blinds with slits of sight
Through the dense fog of pleasure I see that it was all worth it
Next year I will be strong though, less liquids more aching stomach PAIN!


Gobble Gobble, bitches!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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