What do I always say about motivation? Listen, if techno can’t get your ass working on what you need to work on and out of your ho ass feelings, we need to get your ass to the primary care physician listed on your insurance card, and fucking STAT.
There really isn’t anything enough excellent techno can’t fix. I don’t mean that half ass shit, I mean the shit we listen to here, where it feels like the beat is in your chest cavity and if it hits one more time, it’s going to blow your heart out of your shit and that’s when you know it’s the good shit.
There is a chic, Baby Anne, boy looka here. If you can fuck with the bass Baby Anne fucks with, I’ll personally kiss your entire ass. However, you may want to give her a listen first. You’ll lose that bet, that bitch is a monster.
Anyway, as much as I would love to discuss 90’s techno all night, you bitches aren’t ravers and I don’t think I need to tell y’all any more of my secrets today.
I would like to say thank you to those of you who have stopped by on my social platforms and dropped off the love to your girl. Man, I fucking see y’all and I appreciate y’all. Every time I thought I was gonna fucking bitch up in the last couple of days, my shit would ding and it’s one of y’all, just fucking cheering your girl on and telling me some insightful shit, and really just keeping a Queen in check.
I more than thank you for that. I got that shit tucked away. I think everyone here knows I’m all about doing for my people, and a Bitchface that does for me, you can go right on ahead and consider yourself blessed and highly favored at this point. Need something. Go ahead and do it, I’ll swim 2 seas and paraglide over to your ass if I have to, but I got you boo.
Y’all know I hate being a weak bitch. It isn’t a good fit for me, like poorly made bras. Just spillage and uneven shifting. No. Mm um. We won’t be doing that. That’s just not classy.
I’ll tell y’all that I sent him a message. I said that I deserved the words. That no matter what they were or how they would hurt, they were better than this. And that he owed me the words. Now three sets of them.
And, of course, he didn’t respond.
So, that’s going to wrap that right on up. At least it’s a form of closure, right. Even if it’s only the closure I give myself, it is, indeed, closed.
It’s fucking closed.
Sometimes we have to take what closure we need, rather than waiting on others for it.
Solid call, dear... and Well Done!
I still suspect his deal is "Can't" rather than "Won't" but at that point it's really a moot issue because... Brass tacks.
Oddly enough, as I started reading this Movin On by Bad Company popped up on Pandora, and then for a further giggle Warn You by Royal and the Serpent, thence to House Fire by Tyler Childers just started.*Chortle!*
It's little things like this that make my dead cynical engineer's mind ponder the possibility of some sort of human hive mind..
Aaand.. now it's Weak by AJR.
*Ponders hive minds deeply, whilst snort giggling*
So wait, he won't even give you parting words?
Fuck him. Just put on the techno and dance it out