I don’t know what in the fuck is really happening right now, but there is some nonsense taking place. I feel like there is definitely some voodoo rocking in this bitch, and not the kind that makes me feel warm and fuzzy.
Now, I’m absolutely certain I’ve been just as horrible and mean to people as I always am. Yet, there’s a kink in the algorithm. And, no, you fucking pervs, I don’t mean someone with a pegging fetish, why do y’all always fucking go there?
I mean, there’s a glitch in my matrix. There’s a hitch in my giddy-up. There seems to be a fucking problem, Houston.
Today, I had to explain to my friends’ brother that you do not want to do whatever it is they’re calling attempting to flirt with me today. That a) I don’t want to make my homegirls brother cry, but I will point and laugh when I do, and that b) I’m Satan.
This dude actually had the audacity to tell me that it was a bold move thinking he was afraid of demons.
I said, “Excuse me? I will fucking smite you from where I sit, boy, don’t make me call your sister because I know factually she can still kick your ass.”
Cue some uncalled-for comment about being grown. Again, kink in the algorithm.
So, I was clutching my pearls and well, I nevering on with my day, and it glitched again.
This time, a soldier I once upon a time thought was going to be around for a while. I sat here, staring at my phone with my face scrunched up and my eyes squinted, like it was going to just make it say something different. A solid five minutes, seriously, and it was still the same message.
I couldn’t. Nah. We’re not doing that again. I’m cool, did you ask the neighbors? They were looking for some fuckboy drama and dudes who don’t mean a fucking thing they say earlier. Check with them. They might can help you.
Now, you would think that I would have just said fuck it and gone to bed at this point, because I’m exhausted just thinking about this dumb shit. Nope, let’s see if this bad juju is coming in threes, shall we?
Well, what do ya know? Three is a family friend, close enough to not for a moment think that this shit is ok. Also, surely knows I’m the devil. Like, his whole damned family knows, because they’ve witnessed it at weddings and reunions.
What the fuck is happening today? Is it the tides? Is something fucking happening with the moon, speak up amateur astrologists, for the love of God.
How much staying in my fucking lane needs to be done before it is clearly conveyed that I just don’t fucking like people? I mean that in the most offensive way possible. Fuck.
I think I know where I may have erred. I have left the house twice this month. I was out and about, angrily standing at the Touchtunes for like a half and hour, then rapping in the corner seat so you literally had to climb over my homegirls to speak to me.
Goddammit. I half smiled at someone in Publix last week. Before I could catch myself. Turns out, I knew the person in my old life.
This is too much. Too many people think I like them. Not enough people know I’m barely tolerating them. I’m going to have to do something drastic, I can feel it.
Would it be an overreaction to change my identity?
I don’t think so, no.
Mm umm. Sounds reasonable.
Wow... you are so open about loving the single life that I'm amaz-- Wait. This is Guys™; why am I surprised.* At this point, an identity change would be pointless, but cross state lines and you might have some reinvention opportunities. I hear Bremerton, WA is a great place to live. And hey, if you go there, eventually you'll find me and my sister, once I rescue her from the bottom of this prehistoric ocean. (No ulterior motives here, just some good damned coffee.)
In all seriousness, I recommend anyone who is a fan of civil rights to head west until you hit ocean anyway. At bare minimum for "a good reason", Washington has free public healthcare for anyone who can't afford private insurance, codified so if the ACA is repealed they can't take it away from us -- the state will fund it. Don't let the "high taxes" scare you -- the public services more than make up for it, and there's no state income tax to deal with yearly.
To quote a band I once saw play at a teen's hangout spot in 1994:
Move to Bremerton - we'll hang out
Move to Bremerton - we'll go all out
Move to Bremerton - 'till the end of time
Idk what's up with those fucknuggets but you got some homegirls in Washington soon enough (and probably other places) that it might be worth thinking about "sayonara Florida". Ijs. ☆☆
*Not to be equated with the reasonable men we care about who don't do stupid shit.)