I remember when Lucy Van Pelt’s mask lost her made-up religion over this.
How LVP thought this was in reference to her hooz-band is beyond me.
God, I miss you so much, Sia. You’ve spent so many birthdays in heaven.
I wish we could get you back for this one.
Happy 38th, dear heart.
I will never stop missing you.
I laugh at all those memes about letting go of grudges for 2023.
Fuck that. I put a curse on a bitch and let their demons deliver it.
Like this cunt.
I stopped at the Publix at North Delray Commons right before it closed on New Year’s Eve.
I feed three cats downstairs and didn’t want to go home empty-handed. Driving past them would break my soul.
It’s these stupid little decisions, done from the heart, that can do you in.
I was behind this lady in line. Part of me wanted to buy her groceries. Another part of me remembered the arrogant bitch I gave my deli number to at Joseph’s and she pushed an old man off his feet.
I got cunt vibes from this one, too. So I minded my business.
I minded my own damn business as I backed out of my parking spot. Till this same heifer purposely drove head-on at me and screamed to back up. M
Meanwhile a tiny Jeep wedged itself into my spot. I said you caused this; fix it and back up.
She kept screaming and by this time, a crowd had gathered. I couldn’t back up without going into the street. So I threw Hillary in park and surfed Twitter.
The ppl in the Jeep told her to move. Then they asked me to move. I said she will probably block you in too if I get out of here alive.
So many bitches need a Christmas tree shoved in up their ass, ornaments and all.
Bitch is screaming that I don’t have the right of way. I said you took it away from me, you nasty bitch.
I said I will sit here all night, so figure it out.
Naturally she found a worker and he told me I was wrong. I said wrong for coming to Publix. Would love to leave if your girl wasn’t out to ruin my day.
Eventually I did back out into traffic because this cunt kept nosing her front end into mine.
Even as I backed up, she gunned for me.
She said have a blessed day. I said drop dead and mom said fuck you, bitch.
I hope her Christmas tree catches fire and she gets cancer. You always hear about people who don’t deserve it. She most definitely does.
I can’t believe I almost bought her mac and cheese and Sweet Baby Ray’s. Hope she choked on it.
I often forget that it isn’t just Lucy Van Pelt’s Halloween mask that stares at me here and all over sewshul meedya.
Retrograde has opened up a few other memory holes, it appears.
A part of me wants to remind people that they quit calling me first. And that you can only verbally abuse me (Northern asshole) or gossip about me (even more Northern asshole) once before you lose your access to me forever.
Y’all can join someone else in enjoying a shovel to the face in 2023. Or, another one.
2022 wasn’t a bad little year.
I mean, it was ridiculous in its own ways that previous years weren’t.
But I figure I had seven great days.
Six in the Keys …
One in Orlando …
Enjoyed Christmas and NYE immensely …
I’m still getting a paycheck, which bought what my kiddos know as “good foodz.”
Everyone in my little family is here.
Mom pointed out that I sang to myself a lot in December. I was happy.
I think about summer, all the beautiful times
I watched you laughin’ from the passenger’s side
And realized I loved you in the fall
I stopped singing when I got back to work after three weeks off. Stopped being as nice, too.
Jesus, the stress returned faster than the tan I acquired before this cold snap.
I need to get back to being the person I was in December. And to keep being her forever.