It is crazy, I am afraid to leave my house. The Elvis impersonator who looks like Abraham Lincoln, parking nazi number one is always blocking my driveway to hog the parking spot in front of my house. It really annoys me. He does it two times day, many times a week.
I had some close calls with this prick. I almost beat the sheet out of him two times in which he cowered. But before that and after that he wants to act like a tough guy. I am afraid if I go out there, I will eventually punch him in his Abraham Lincoln face and get arrested again.
And if I get arrested again in my neighborhood and I see the Jewish Queen judge, I would be screwed, she will send me to pound me in the ass Rikers Island.
I have been staying inside to avoid that nonsense. The sight of this piece of garbage and his entourage of boyfriends really irritates me. Maybe because I know they are cowards, and they will call the cops even though they are the ones acting like tough guys.
I have been doing my magic spells on them, and it has drained me. You see when you curse someone, and their will is strong it takes a lot out of you. And that is what I am spiritually feeling.
Don’t get me wrong, if you are an occultist, you should never lose faith, and may your will be strong but sometimes it does not work and it work against you.
It is a moron move, why do you feel a need to hold a parking spot for yourself with two cars like you are royalty? First of all, this Mary is far from royalty, he looks like a giant roach. Yea, I am talking about the bugs that you find in a dirty person’s apartment. Cock-ah-roach is how you pronounce it and with this loser emphasize the cock.
And what i hate about the situation is he owns an ethnic store around the block (I say ethic, because we are the same race) and they sell meat. They call themselves a fish and meat market but from what I see the product I see that keeps them afloat is sugar cane juice and coconuts. Let me rephrase this, if you own a meat market and your bestselling product is a coconut then you are a failure.
Let us pray and hold the faith that the Elvis impersonator who looks like Abraham Lincoln dies. In this I pray amen.
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Why I am afraid to leave the house right now
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My personal Valentines Day Massacre
That is my love life, a series of realizations that I am not good enough. However, there was a time I thought I was good enough. So, what do people who think they are good enough do? They go on dating sites looking for women. Then I found one, she was cute, she had a muffin top on her belly which she wore as a sexy feature. But in reality, she was a plumper who knew how to craft make up and her fat in tights to turn me on.
I met her off the internet, she was an older woman. She was divorced multiple times, she had kids from three baby’s daddies and what can I say, for a low life like me it’s a turn on.
But she was beyond a gold digger. She was out to strike oil with me, which in my case was $40 and a DVD player.
You can tell when you have a gold miner as a mate, if you just started the relationship with them on December twentieth, they would ask what are you getting them for Christmas. This is why you should always start your relationships after February fifteenth this way you do not have to get them a gift.
I had many events that turned me off to this aspect of the adult traps. There are many adult traps: jobs, marriage, children and mates, whether it be your girlfriend or boyfriend.
So here was a specific event in the adult trap that led me to the way of disengaging with the love life:
It was Valentine’s Day, my chubby ungrateful and needy girlfriend at the time said to meet her at this certain restaurant. So, I go over there. Would you believe that when I went there, she was already seated with a big plate of food?! Yea, she got seated and ordered food and ate her fat fuggin meal without me. I thought because we were together and boyfriend and girlfriend, she would wait for me and then we would be seated together and then order our food together and then I can watch her gain weight.
But no! Absolutely not her. She could not be a decent pig, she could not resist, she just had to be a normal pig! I walk into that restaurant, and I see her with five farm animals on a plate, absorbing it, and I am like wow you fat beach! What a fat fuggin beach!
And it was not the restaurant I wanted to go to; it was not even what I planned. Then the bill comes, and she hands it to me, and I literally uttered the phrase, “you fat fugg…” I was disgusted by this fat beached whale. She saw the disgust in my face and heard the disgust out of my mouth and she tells me she will pay for it, but I have to buy pizza for her and her kids for dinner.
Now just keep in mind, she is plus size, and you can add and exponent to that. She is chubby to the second power, and she has three kids, they eat like hungry lions. And they are big kids, one of them looked like and was shaped like a female Cleveland Brown Jr. and the other two looked like a female wrestling tag team.
So, I order dominos, it cost me $40 and on top of that there is a delivery fee in addition to the tip which is why I hate ordering pizza in general because I am paying for two slices I never ate when you add in the tip and delivery fee. But don’t worry, I did not really get to eat anything once I left it on the table, they swallowed it like it was no tomorrow. Not only did that turn me off to a love life but also turned me off to fatherhood. I can’t believe I paid $40 to eat two slices.
So, my girl at the time is telling me she will bring my food to me. She is taking forever and when I see what is taking her so long, I see her stuffing her face once again eating without me. What a fat selfish beach. That relationship went on for three months, good times huh?
And that was my personal Valentine’s Day massacre! It’s also one of the many reasons to never date again. This is a day in my miserable life, where many words of misery shall be uttered. Until next time, because unfortunately I am still alive. -
Will raising the minimum wage really benefit us all?
Once upon a time, before I gave up on life itself, I use to work. However, I became disenchanted with the workforce and started to perceive marriage, jobs, and responsibilities in general as life traps and I no longer wanted to be a part of it.
It first started when the great recession struck in 2008 to 2009. We had a great economy but all of a sudden, some yeast infection case in nice clothes and a sweet voice sits in front of a news microphone and says we are in a recession and the economy is bad while things were good a second ago. Then people believed it. Hiring started to freeze up and jobs slowly went from abundance to rare pearls, even the fast-food jobs.
What that did was make a toxic competitive atmosphere. Well, you know this is planet Earth. Therefore, when people compete, they don’t shake hands and say let the best man win and then do to the best of their ability. Nope, what they do to compete is sabotage and gossip about you to a point where you look substandard and incompetent. Next thing you know you get fired or you quit before you set the place on fire. So, I got fired.
When I kept on with the rat race, there was a new obstacle to the newfound bad economy that the news announced, and everyone believed although things were great one split second before they made the announcement. That obstacle was when Obama made health care mandatory for full time employees. That caused employers to hire less full-time workers and more part time workers to save money. Some employers just let go of a lot of people and made the smaller staff do more. Now, it becomes more of a survival of the fittest situation because now you can get fired and not hired for another reason which makes more of a competitive situation and now your employer can further exploit you.
Lately, as I wrote this, I heard they are trying to raise the minimum wage. I predict this will make you more of a slave as an employee because now a job will become a rare dinosaur egg. You will have to compete more which will cause animosity, you will have to do more because you need to have healthcare and a higher wage as an employee, so you now have to be worth the money to the last cent. Let us face it, we may not be worth it to an employer. When the toxicity in the workplace has reached its highest concentration, I think it will lead to violence in the workplace over the stress of keeping the job and it will make employers hire less. Again, a higher minimum wage will make competition at the work place a duel to the death. Thank God I am a bum who lives at his mother’s house.
Here is another thing to consider, by raising the minimum wage, less people get hired which means more people cannot afford stuff because raising the minimum wage is a counter to inflation, but if you do not have a job, you cannot afford the price of living. That will increase unemployment and poverty. I just thought I would throw that out there while I cannot get flagged by social media because this is my site. -
He looks like Abraham Lincoln and an Elvis impersonator
My mind and body is shaking to the core with anger and rage. OfCourse, no one knows it, just my mom because I live with her, and I told her about. The rage is coming from my hatred for the Elvis impersonator parking nazi. He is back doing his schtick in front of my house, blocking my driveway twice a day to annex and hog the parking spot in front of my house.
I wrote in depth about the Elvis impersonator parking nazi who looks like Abraham Lincoln also here:https://wordsofmisery.com/2025/02/03/saturday-more-like-shitturday/
It irritates me, sometimes I see him out my window doing, other times I am greeted to this sh-t when I step out my door. I know it is kind of legal what he is doing, and since it takes two minutes I should not care. But for some reason, it makes my blood boil.
So, with this in mind, I see danger that is inevitable and unavoidable. Also, it’s a situation I cannot win. If I punch the Elvis impersonator parking nazi in his face, which is coming to a theater near you, his gang of boyfriends will come after me; and I am willing to risk that. After all, I did scream at the guy all by his lonesome on two separate occasions and he did nothing, and his little boyfriends did not come at me.
But get this, the Elvis impersonator parking nazi is one of those mid-life crises douche bags who is in his late fifties to early sixties, but he is acting like a tough guy. And he like many people in my neighborhood feel I am a mark, because I am always by myself and a small person. Then when a midlife crisis loser here in good old’ NYC sees me in my neighborhood, for some strange reason they start to challenge me and downright initiate conflict with me in their ploy to feel young again and Elvis impersonator parking nazi is another one of them. So, if cops get involved, they will take his side because of his age, because the last guy who had a midlife crisis on me turned into a scared old man and called the cops.
Then if the cops come, it will be like last time. I told the cops they did things that irritated me and provoked me like staring at me, saying something messed up, coming on to my property and the cops were like: “so,” then the cops took me to jail instead; and I can foresee that happening again.
So, like usual, I am locking myself in here, listening to the spirits tell me to stay in and I am shaking and bouncing off the walls in stopping myself from going out there and hitting him. In addition, the times he has tried to irritate me in person by saying stupid sh-t to me while he parks in front of my house to block my driveway, I again stopped myself from hitting him by just screaming at him. OfCourse, when I did scream at him, the first time he started pleading he does not want any trouble and the other time, he turned his back to deescalate because I got in his face, if he would have made the wrong move in that event I would have hurt him. Then that other time when he pleaded, he wanted no trouble, he still stood in front of me for a minute and right before I picked up my shovel and held it to his face to mush his head with it, he left within a split second.
So, I am honestly trying to be peaceful. I am, and I am trying to keep my composure, but in my home, I am raging behind his presence and nervous about what I foresee. I can see myself getting into a fight or getting arrested or something that involves the latter with the former with a dash of me getting killed.
I really do hate the Elvis impersonator parking nazi. This as-hole owns an ethnic store around the block, as written before; I say ethnic store because unfortunately me and this jerk off share the same nationality although I was born in America, my parents are where he is from. In his ethnic store he is selling deer meat. Let me rephrase this, the Elvis impersonator parking nazi piece of sh-t is selling the carcass of Bambi. What kind of savage would eat Bambi.
But again, there is a part of me that should not be obsessed with the annoying things he is doing. But he has this Elvis impersonator look to him and he also looks like Abraham Lincoln a little and then he has this squeaky raspy voice, my God, I pray that he gets HIV.
I did have to step back and ask myself why I am always fixated on this. I tried to get to the source of my thinking because this is making many intrusive thoughts in my mind. The best thing to do when you have intrusive thoughts is ask yourself why and the answer is because he is a douche bag… -
Saturday?! More like Shitturday!!!
Recently I uploaded a blog and deleted it. I did it because I don’t think I expressed myself properly. Now it’s time to exhale through my ass by the written word.
I had a horrible saturday. A very sh-tty saturday. We can call it shitturday, how about that?
First I do my ritual, I look out the window when I wake up in the morning. Ofcourse like everything I do, its a problem. The first thing I see is it the horrible sight of this woman who lives across the street. I nicknamed her the Bangladeshi butterball. Why? Because for the purpose of this blog she is Bangladeshi and she is a nosey round butter ball. I should roll that nosey b-tch down a hill let her crash in to a tree.
The second thing I see, is my nightmare returned. The parking nazi number one. He is a piece of sh-it Elvis impersonator who owns the ethic store around the block. He was featured in last blog “a curse of a hundred pennies,” you can read that blog here: https://wordsofmisery.com/2025/01/31/the-curse-of-a-hundred-pennies/
But I call the Elvis impersonator a parking nazi because out here in NYC you have people who hog parking spots for themselves like it is real estate. And this guy is text book annoying. Elvis impersonator the parking nazi is what we will call him, that is his new nick name. So let me get back to what I was saying, Elvis impersonator the parking nazi is the reason why people get shot, after dealing with this guy and having the displeasure of watching him exist, I completley understand. Infact, when I hear about things in the news, I think about this guy and say, “the victim must have done something wrong..” I know its fugged up, but the guy gets me that angry.
*** let me intervene here, my blogs on wordsofmisery.com are raw, not proof read, its straight written feeling, they may sound incoherent and I may take them down to rephrase or retract***
So what he does to make me angry is why I call him a parking nazi. Every day for close to seven years, this jerk off has a car parked in front of my house, but he jumps in another car, he then blocks access to my driveway with the other car. He then exits the other car he has blocking my driveway; he takes his sweet azz time and going to his car he has parked Infront of my house which he moves to block my neighbor’s driveway, exits that car while both cars are on and open and blocking both my driveway and my neighbor. Then he proceeds to go back in the car he came in blocking my driveway, he moves it in the parking spot in front of my house, gets out of that car and goes back in the car that is now blocking my neighbor’s driveway which was originally parked in front of my house and then he leaves. And by doing that, he hogs one parking space with two cars and he does it by blocking two driveways. So basically, Elvis’s impersonator parking nazi uses my block as his personal parking lot. It makes me want to cave his head in.
On two seperate occassions I almost did cave his head in, but I was not successful unfortunatley. I only screamed at him, scared the stuff out of him, and I as well he realized how much a punk azz beech this guy really is. One time, he had the balls to take one of my shovels and try to help me shovel while I was shoveling snow, I almost punched him in his face, he then begs he wants no trouble. But he is still standing in front of me for a few seconds. When I almost was a centimeter from mushing my snow shovel in head he leaves. A few years later, I actually screamed in his face and confronted him about his parking nazi ways, and again, he was like a scared woman on the New York CIty subway at during the years Eric the dik Adams is or was mayor, just depends on when you read this blog.
Mother Laxmi had given me grace, I got a break from this guy for three years, because the blessed city of New York ended up towing his car away because they were doing work on the street and he left his car on the block. He could not get to his car on time because he does not live in the area. The city then towed the parking nazi’s car, and I am talking about the Elvis impersonator who owns the ethic store. I really hate him, i can’t stand his face, I can’t stand his voice, I despise that him and his little gang at his store all look like Elvis Presley impersonators, even the women who work there…
But, you know he is not the only parking nazi I have encountered in New York. Yes that is correct I screamed at and almost grounded and pounded a few parking nazis but again I only screamed because I am a vagina. They are like roaches, if it ain’t the Elvis impersonator, its the Chinese News Network, a nosey Chinese person I have a nick name for who kind of lives on my block. Then it was this crew of scum bags who own a furniture store around the block. What is odd, is I did a magic spell against the furniture store people, and they left, they are smart. But the magic spells never worked on the Elvis impersonator, they kind of do, but it doesnt get rid of him and I end up hurting me self. But with the furniture store people they were smart, they caught the vibe from the magic spell and they left. However, Elvis impersonator will is strong, he is affected by it but he keeps coming. Same thing with the chinese news network, I do it on him but he keeps coming but when he does, he is jumping like jumping bean the whole way. However this time, I don’t stop doing magic spells no matter how much it hurts me because Elvis impersonator has to feel it.
So, when I woke up, I saw the Bangladeshi butter ball and then I saw that the Elvis impersonator paking nazi has returned. And wow what a start to a sh=itty saturday, it was shitturday, the continuation of a horrible existence.
Make sure you come back to wordsofmisery.com. Book mark the page because GOOGLE does not have me listed on their search engine.
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The curse of a hundred pennies
It’s one of those days where I got to go outside and run some errands. Unfortunately, I have to go into civilization. I have to bear the wild and walk around in my neighborhood. I mean let’s face it, my room is my cloud, it’s my bubble. My room is my little itty bitty delusion factory where I think I am wizard, a businessman and a tough guy. Then I go out there into reality and it hits me hard, people hate my guts, society thinks I’m dog poop.
Maybe that’s why some fat looking Roman soldier is looking at me like he wants to kick my butt. But what really killed me about the whole situation is this dude was pushing a baby carriage with a baby in it. I was shocked. What fat low life. Bear in mind nothing is wrong with being fat. I do not know where it came from. Why would a guy I do not know be stink eyeing me like he wanted to fight while he pushes a baby carriage?! I played it cool and tried not to stare back, but I did. It was really weird. It puzzled me the whole day. I’m worried about what happens when this loser sees me again and he does not have his baby with him. I was guessing he thinks if he kills me and does life prison, he can get out of the responsibility of taking care of his child. That is the only reason why some dude who does not know me wanted a confrontation while he is pushing his kid in a carriage.
I am worried about it; I don’t want the problems. I also know that I cannot win on any level. But this always happens to me. I am always finding myself in situations where people just mess with me and try to make confrontation with me. What was real disheartening about the situation is the protection spell I used before I left the house did not work. Remember in my room which is a factory of delusion I am a wizard. You know, like a middle-aged Merlin. But I will have the faith, I am writing this from New York City, there is a lot of crime, let’s just pray he becomes a victim of it, Amen!
So, I keep walking, I overhear some woman going to the store I hate asking for something. I really despise the guy who owns the store, and I cannot stomach his workers, they are like his little crew. It’s an ethnic grocery store. The woman asks how much a coconut is, we’re like savages in my neck of the woods, I guess someone wanted a cut coconut to drink the water out of it. And while I write this, just know, its winter, why would you want a coconut in thirty-degree weather? And get this: when she asked for the price of the coconut, he tells her its $10!
Could you believe that sh-t?! $10 for a friggin coconut, from a place that’s only worth $5. However, you have suckers and desperados that will submit to that. And there we go, one more reason to hate that scum bag, his store and his gang of workers that sell things in front of the store, so they act like gangsters on a street corner. I cannot get over the $10 parts. I will shove that coconut up his gluteus maximus! Who the fugg does this guy think he is, lord of the coconuts? You know what else irritates me about that store and the people that work there? OK here it is: the owner and the people who work there, whether male or female, they all look like Elvis Presley impersonators. I don’t know if he ships them in from Las Vegas during the slow season, I got no fugging idea.
So, the day keeps going wrong, because I am still breathing. Getting older with this luck really worries me. I can have the same problems in the nursing home with other senior citizens at this rate if I do not solve this spiritual and quick. Now I go to the train station, I wanted to put money in the metro card and machine and use all the coins I had which is a real kicker in the story. But OfCourse, it’s my life, and the machine don’t work, and the other machine don’t accept money just cards. I tell the MTA employee, and she was nice to let me on the train free. And I appreciate that, because I ready to hop the train and she made it easier for me.
So now I am on a train in the hood, because I had to exchange at a station for another train. It’s in Brooklyn and this station is crowded like a block in Bombay, India in the afternoon. I get off the train. Before I go out, I wanted to put money on my metro card. And I really have to because the cops are there, and I cannot hop the train this time. I actually did not want to, but the fare is expensive, and I had a few dollars.
But here is the kicker, I had two-dollar bills and one hundred pennies. I was intending to put the one hundred pennies in the metro card machine. You know what, hold on, maybe the pennies may have been bad luck which is why that fat white or Spanish dude wanted to kick my buns of bone. Yea sh-t wow! You see when my grandpa died, he had a jar full of pennies at his house and my mom kept it when he was cleaning out his house. Now I come to think about it, my grandfather hated me. He hated my guts. He hated that I could not find a job after I got laid off and he thought I was a bum. It hurt me so much that I stopped speaking to him, we reconciled and then a few weeks after he died. This is something I will write about again but yea, his curse maybe on those pennies. Holy stuff, maybe that’s why!
Well anyway, here I am. My cheap a.s.s. and my one hundred pennies like this is medieval times. I look for a machine and its same thing, nothing works. I ask the woman at the MTA booth, while she is working hard text messaging her friend, she says it takes pennies. I go back to the machine; I keep pushing the penny in and it spits it back at me like a whore telling me it’s too good for her. So, I go back to this useless sack of MTA sh-t in her booth. Naturally she is doing executive actions on her cell phone, probably receiving a d-ck pic. But she tilts her moronic head when she was ready and tells me that pennies are not accepted.
So, now I walk around the neighborhood, I walk around to every store, and they are like “nope, I ain’t doing that!” And I was like what the fugg is this?! Why does everyone discriminate against the pennies? Are you not a store? Do you not need the fugging change? How fugging dare these pieces of sheet just tell me they won’t accept my one hundred pennies for exchange of a dollar or to purchase something?! No one has a worth ethic anymore, and it’s unacceptable, we all can’t be like that, for that is my department…
I finally found a store with a lady who was nice enough to exchange it for me and I was on my way. And may the Gods bless that lady and that store. And may the Gods give the other stores bird flu who discriminate against my pennies. After that I copped my sh-t that I needed and I went back on the train and when I saw there was cops around, I was like a bunny rabbit. And we all know what bunny rabbits do right?! Yea, that’s right: grow fur…
My life is dark. I felt a dark feeling on the streets as I always do when I go out there. I need to brighten my own light within overcome my darkness. What a miserable day that makes my miserable life. And OfCourse, I will be back. I hope you will also. Come back to wordsofmisery.com . -
Long term unemployment and the hateful uncle
I remember when I was just unemployed for a few weeks, it was the beginning of my long-term unemployment. At this time, I never knew what it felt like to be out of work as I always had a job.
So, I am obviously in a slump mentally because of this, I am also having mental fatigue because, in that time, I worked, I interned for free, I had a job, and I would help my mom with her business. With this life in mind, I had my guard down at my grandfather’s house.
While my guard is down at my grandpa’s house, my uncle approaches me. A real doushe bag miserable with a b-tch bushy moustache. He then proceeds to open his mouth and ask me if I got a new job. I said no. Then he immediately goes on the attack with my guard down screaming, “how come you don’t have a job?!” And this was unexpected and shocking to me, so I basically had my guard down as this d-ck waad verbally attacks me.
Then he goes on to tout his job and just rambles nonsense. At that point my mind broke a little bit, because I am being attacked by someone unexpectedly and I still thought he was someone to be respected so I did not verbally defend myself.
After that moment I became disturbed. It affected me mentally for a while because I wanted to punch him in his face and tell him to kiss my you know what but I could not.
This moment took place almost fifteen years ago. I do not know why I carry this so long. I do not know why I feel disturbed by it. Also, it is a source for many of my intrusive thoughts.
I guess someone in my family abused their power and I could do nothing about it. I was defenseless in the matter. For years after that I basically stayed away from my family, and he just told his side of the story as him being the victim and my family though it was nothing.
I stayed away because I wanted to rip his head off and tell him off, but I never did. I just continued to alienate myself from them.
Years later I saw him at my grandpa’s house, and I exploded on him, and it portrayed me as the crazy one as I suspected it would.
There are many battles in my life I cannot win. There are many moments in my life where sabotage is the theme never ending.
This was the first lesson in my life where I realized peace hurts but war is suicide, and I was forced to stir in my misery. Sometimes it is the only thing you can do. -
How failure occurs
In 2008, I was flying high. To you I would be barely flying in the middle, I would just be levitating one foot off the ground in your eyes. Well back to me. In 2008, I finished college, I had me a dead-end job that I left to start my career the job of my dreams. It was a sales job in the media game.
All of a sudden, my apex became a curse on me. Many times, I wonder, am I cursed or do I have a bad horoscope. And I say bad horoscope because its beyond back luck, its being f-cked from birth.
As soon as I got my first job, I ended up being in a toxic workplace. It seems the boss who hired me had second thoughts. So, she would make my job hard hoping I would quit. I never quit. Instead, I stood firm, and she fired me.
That was the one year of work after college. After that, I was on unemployment. That lasted two years. I tried to find a job, but it was lower than I was getting on unemployment, and it was not enough to sustain myself or what I should be getting out of college. We are talking way below 30k a year.
After that, it started to become mission impossible. First, the longer you stay out of work, the harder it is to get hired for some strange reason. Then there is this bull sh-t they make you go through. They want to credit check you, background check , check your penis size and drug test you for a minimum wage job and this was before it was a $15 minimum wage. And I was like suck my d-ck.
On top of that, if you are not going to hire me for sure why would I give you my social security number? Isn’t that the dumbest thing you ever heard of in your life? What do you do with my number after you have it and you do not hire me? So again, suck my d-ck and the next thing you know it’s years since I had a job.
Whatever job I do have just tried to exploit me because they know I am long term unemployed for years, so they have me by the balls. I like my balls, i really love my balls and here I am, in my forties at my mother’s house and unemployed.
After my entrepreneur endeavors failed, after dreams of higher education failed and after one hundred interviews from hell I am truly burnt out from life.
So how was your day? Please donate to my site on the top right of the screen. -
A snow day of doom starring my neighbors and my butthole
When it snows, I got to shovel and that’s where my problems start. I have neighbors that assume the relationship of Israel and Palestine with me. I beyond hate these reeces pieces of sh_t.
Every time it snows, these jerk offs and ons throw there snow on my property when they could just put it on the street. And then you have these a-sholes who park their car in front of my house and want direct how I should shovel so I do not go near their car. I mean the nerve and audacity of these mary mary quite contraries, huh?! As if they are the center of the universe and by the size of their man tits, they may be on to something, perhaps they are!
And if and when I flip out on these people, all over a sudden it’s like: “oh my God, he’s crazy.”
Yea I am crazy, a normal person would have caved their head in. They would not put up with this sh_t. I have no idea where I am going with this. I can’t post it anywhere, I’ll just lose my account. I got flagged for using the word “the” in a sentence; it’s that simple when I get screwed out there.
Then I realize, am I push over who lets people walk all over me? Or am I strong? Because it takes a certain strength to not slap someone when they are so slappable. It takes more strength to walk away.
What can I say: They go out of their way to insult me, irritate me and provoke me into a conflict.…NOW on a side note: let’s talk about conflict, I tried to unwind but of course it all goes wrong. I eat a meal, and I make some hot cocoa to cheer me up. Then I make a cigarette because I am poor and that is how poor people smoke, they have to make a cigarette, not pull it out of a pack. And then, after the cocoa, I don’t know what happen!
One fart, two farts, three farts, then my stomach starts bubbling. My butthole gets a burning sensation, and it loosens like a broken rubber band. Holy sh!t, I have to take one… Now I am rushing to finish making this cigarette to go to the toilet with, but my anus says “no, I’m taking over, I’m going to poop in your pants…”
Now my stomach and anus become bad neighbors to me, turning on me. I almost sh=t myself. I almost sh=t my pants in my early forties.
I mean it never ends; it’s a good thing I got this blog.