The emo blog, it will be the only one I hope I can promise...

So Monday I was grocery shopping at Wal-Mart, because that is where I can afford to shop these days, a step above Aldi’s but still piss poor. Anyway, I try to be a nice person and not make fun of people, but this was just too funny… This skirt was sashaying down an isle and god bless her, she tried so hard to pretend like she had an ass, alas even with tight pants, some impressive heeled boots, and a concentrated effort in her walking, it was to no avail. Why the fuck are you trolling for dick in a goddamned Wal-Mart?! That is my first question. It was too early to be drunk and not the first of the month so I was at a loss. I might be an asshole for getting a kick out of this, but hey, I did so if you don’t like it you can pound sand.

I was thinking about this even now as I am writing and think it may be able to go under a heading named “You know it’s time to change your life when…” I have a couple thus far, feel free to add in the comment section, (I reply to all comments left in the comment section with comments left in the comment section… how redundant is that? Fuck me…)

You have to grocery shop at Wal-Mart and still worry about bouncing your account.

A stripper with two kids and more problems, issues, and drama than is entirely fathomable tells you YOU are fucked up and need help.

You can’t use the washroom at work because your boss ridicules and then gets mad and yells at you for your become OCD tendencies.

That is all I have for now, but it is only Monday, I am sure the week will only get more shitty as I work outside and deprive myself of sleep all week long. I was reading my friend V’s blog and she mentioned how she was getting half lit up before she went to her reunion. Made the comment, “Yes, I use alcohol as a crutch. No, I don't feel bad about that.” I realize that is true of myself as well, and I feel the same way about it, most people just won’t admit it. I can’t make it sound as funny as her, but it is what it is…

I am watching the old boob tube whilst working on this piece of literary cat litter that I hope will get a laugh out of someone somewhere, and wonder if when seeing the success all around me, if I should be inspired and motivated, or feel like shit because I am 28 and have fuck-all to show for it. Not just on TV because it’s just for ratings and money, but in my day and travels as well, most people I associate with are doing pretty well for themselves. They have good jobs or at least ones that pay well, nice vehicles, houses in good locations or apartments/condo’s/what have you. I wonder where I went wrong, like there was one little slip I made that landed me where I am now?

Maybe I am too paranoid and think people are set against me and working to undermine my efforts in life, maybe I am too cynical and it’s wrong to start with the assumption that everyone is full of shit and putting me on to further their own agenda in which I am a mere pawn for their use/amusement… but mayhaps not, dear reader. I can admit I’m kinda dumb, I may cock something up and then do it a couple more times just for good measure, but I am not a retard, I am pretty bright where my emotions are not concerned. Yet as I hack my through this briar patch of psycho bitches that seems to have become my love life as it ma be, I become less and less willing to believe or trust what I am told. “I am not like the other girls you dated…” Oh yeah? Why is that, you have three fucking cans or something? Because that is the only kind of weird and crazy I have yet to encounter, and that would be a welcome fucking relief. I find it amusing (infuriating) that I hear that line and then two days later I see them doing and /or saying the same old shit that means they are up to no good. Benefit of the doubt be damned, don’t act like you have something to hide if you do not. Oh, and while we are at it, don’t wait till I dump you, then try to dump me the next day, your pathetic attempt at rationalization because you can’t handle rejection disgust me. Another one that intrigues me is watching how she gets more mad after the fact. Attempt 2 at re-dumping me was somewhat nice, were it believable… then 12 hours later I get a scathing email (yes email because she won’t call or answer her phone and won’t text or respond to a text.) on facebook no less, not even a real mother fucking email, telling me how fucked up I am and how I already got “out of line”… like I am a fucking dog that did something wrong and needs to be spanked, who the FUCK put you together woman?!

I did stop short of being too nasty with her, I had two lines I could have thrown out that would have stopped the fight, and all subsequent communication afterwards, but hey, only knew her a few weeks, not that worried if I never hear from her again. I almost told her that now I understand why every guy she has ever dated has beaten the living shit out of her. I also decided not to mention that I believe she lost the weight after her kid’s by not eating and binge drinking and using copious amounts of drugs, but even after all that for a 24 yr old she had the tits of a 40 yr old and stretch marks that looked like the face of a mountain. I felt that would have been too much and it would have only been to be mean, I don’t really believe those things. Well, that is enough for a Monday evening, have a test for a new job (hopefully) tonight and practice. I hope to get out at some point this week so I can have some good stories for you. It’s Monday and I am already done with this week, ready for a case of beer, carton of smokes, and trying to find some dame to drown my sorrows (jive rod) in. Perfect? No, Best moral course of action? Mayhaps not, but everyone knows up front what they are getting and they are there by choice.