Monday, November 28, 2011

Excuse me I need to have a mental breakdown day...

This is your disclaimer.  This is one of those foul mouth blogs that it would be better for you not to read if you have a sensitive stomach.  This is your first and last warning!

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* Seriously, this is it folks.  I have opened up a can of foul mouth monkey and there is no turning back after this.  Walk away.  Walk away now!
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I'm sorry, but this is going to be one of those days where I just am no good to anyone.  None at all.  I just want to run around and scream "Fuck you!" at anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact with me.

I think everyone has those days, they're just too pussy to admit it.  Well, I'm admitting it.  I'm having one of those days and if you don't want to get your feelings hurt, DON'T READ!

I am so damn tired of people acting like I'm not allowed to have a life because I have kids. 

I will not sit around my house wasting away and waiting for shit to hit DVD because I couldn't get to the movies anymore.  I will not sit at home waiting for you to see if maybe I want to tag along.  Man fuck you!  I am not the third wheel on your fucked up ass tricycle!

My kids are not your responsibility.  AT ALL!  Did you carry them for nine months?  Did you lay down with me and help create them? Were you there in the delivery room when I had them?  Where were you when I was up all fucking night changing diapers and doing feedings??  Huh?  You were living your merry little life not knowing or caring that I was even alive.  Not caring or knowing that they were alive so why the fuck do you want to look at me now that they're here and I feel like after twelve years I wanna go do something while they enjoy a little TV time at the house?

You know what?  I am a much better mother than some of these tricks out there.  I honestly know some tramps and skeezes that leave their children at like six and five at home with sesame street for a goddamn babysitter while they go have lives.  My kids are 13, 11, and 10.  They are old enough to watch themselves for a couple of hours, old enough not to burn down my fucking house and old enough to know how to dial a fucking phone should something go wrong.  They are much older than I was when I was a latch key kid.

I was a latch key kid at 8... In New fucking Jersey!  My kids are pre teen in West middle of Bumblefuck, North Carolina!  I came home to an empty house and let myself in and called my moms job and let them know I was home and I was fine.  My kids can come home and do the same damn thing.

Why am I so mad?  Fuck if I know.  I'm just tired of sitting home while everyone else has a life and don't fucking say, that's my fault cause that is just one fo the many things that it is not safe for you to say right now.

Like I said, this is one of those days that I just want to act like I'm on world's biggest rag.  I want to walk around like I;m fucking Atlas with the ever growing world on my shoulders and screaming one big Ghetto like "What the fuck you lookin; at, bitch?" to everyone that makes eye contact.

And I can do that.  Why can I do that?  Because I want to.

I told you it was a bad day.  And it is a bad day.

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