I’m such an angry person. Deal with it.

Alright, well, I’m a lot madder than usual.

This fucking website deleted my post.

My post I’ve been working on for the past 4 hours is down the drain.This stupid website has autosaved every single one of my posts. Every single one. This one time I actually needed the autosave feature to work on my blog, the website completely just shit all over what I was working on.

Fuck it. I guess I’ll just have to re-write everything I just wrote some other time.

Right now, I’m just going to tell some frustrations.

I’m in the mood to just yell about stuff, so buckle up, because I’m going to lose my mind for a little bit.

First off, this fucking rain delay ruined my chance of seeing the Tigers go to the World Series. So that happened. Just wanted to share that.

Also, I got called un-American because I told someone I watch soccer. I guess it was because I said the MLS is a joke, and I watch Barclays Premier League? I guess I’ll never know.

Lets see. Some things that pissed me off this week.

Oh. Shopping. Fucking hate it. I hate shopping. Well, when I say I hate shopping, I mean for myself. I hate shopping for myself. For some reason, I love to shop for other people, as weird as that sounds. Hell, it might not even sound weird. Whatever.

The thing I most hate about shopping is the people. Especially the people that take it WAY too serious.

Look, your stupid kid really doesn’t need all those toys you bought him. You spoiled the shit out of him, and now he expects you to get him whatever he wants whenever he wants. He really doesn’t need the toys you got him. They’re just going to be covered in snot and McDonalds in two weeks when they’re broken. Put them back. And stop pushing and shoving each other to get the shit you want. I promise it isn’t that important that you need to get into fist fights with other women in the middle of Target because the deals are fucking unbeatable. I promise that if you didn’t wait until the very last minute to buy what you needed, you wouldn’t be sitting on a stretcher in the front of the store with an oxygen mask on.

Now, when it comes to that kind of shopping, I always trust my Aunt Peggy. She has a plan mapped out and a strategy and its amazing to see.

The funniest part of shopping is seeing all of the guys who fucking hate it. The only reason they’re there is because of their wives. They’re forced to be there, and every single one of them shares the same fucking hatred for having to wake up before the sun rises to get fabric at 70% off.

Another thing, don’t cut me in line. No one is stealing the things you have in your cart, and the cash register isn’t going to suddenly catch fire and now you’re without your things. You have everything you want in your cart. If you waited until everything in your life was going to all hell because you didn’t get to buy a television for $150, I can guarantee you will have the patience to wait the extra 5 minutes for me to check-out. And actually, if you cut me, I’ll make your ass wait longer. I’ll purposely make your whole day a hate fest towards me if you cut me.

Don’t do it, you’ll regret it.

Here’s something thats always pissed me off.

The fact that people get SO worked up at the fact that people swear.

Yes, I fucking love to swear. But why is it that these words were deemed “bad words”?

Also, why is it that I’m not allowed to swear in papers or anything that I have to do for school? This is my one exception. This is how i fucking talk, on a regular basis. Why do I now have to starch my collar and pull out my pompous vocabulary to satisfy someone? If you don’t like the way I talk, or the things I say, then don’t talk to me or listen. It won’t hurt my feelings.

There are just some things you can’t express with regular words. Sometimes swearing just drives a point home. Like if you’re bored. I’ll say: “I’m really fucking bored.” Not only does it tell you that I’m bored, but I’m FUCKING bored. There is a difference, and you know it just as well as I do.

Here’s a rule about this blog. Not a rule, but you know what I mean. I have NO sympathy for you if you get offended by what I post on here. None. I’m not forcing you to read this. You did it on your own. That’s on you. Not me. So don’t come to me and bitch and moan about how what I said was mean. because I do not give a shit about it. You read. If you didn’t like it, don’t fucking read it again. Simple as that.

Next week will be better, i promise. But to be honest, it will probably be the same. See ya then.




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