Incoherent Ramblings of a Crazy Bitch

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CHILDREN SENSE I’M CRAZY — January 29, 2015

CHILDREN SENSE I’M CRAZY

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Several years ago I took my kids to New Haven with my friend Angie and her kids. We were doing train rides with Santa. Well we were in the back of the caboose with our kids and there was another kid that had to sit in our area because the rest was filled. This boy was about 9-10 years old, not too little to sit by himself.

He’s sitting across from Angie and I notice he has a train on his jacket. And I say, “Oh look at his coat it has a train how cute.” Angie tells me it was for Purdue. I replied I sure as heck didn’t know that because I don’t watch sports. Suddenly this kid says “You’re crazy.” I tell him that’s not a nice thing to say. So he says it again “You’re crazy.” I ignore the little fucker.

Then Conrad, who was 4 at the time, stands up and points at me and says “Mommy you’re crazy.” I tell him it’s not nice to call his mommy crazy. So this little brat sitting across from me says it again “You’re crazy.” He’s not being quiet either; I think the whole train car heard him. So then my older son, being the smartass he is, starts called me crazy too. I have three kids all pointing their fingers at me chanting “You’re crazy! You’re crazy! You’re crazy!”

Angie is just laughing and laughing. I’m trying to diffuse the situation and make it a joke, “They’re young yet know me so well.” It’s not like I could say what I really wanted to.  I wanted to grab the little brat sitting across from me and toss him off the train. I wanted to act like a child and tell him he was crazy and ugly and his mommy didn’t love him. Dang brat. but I kept my mouth shut and felt like I was in Salem at a witch hunt where all the villagers stand around the accused witch pointing and chanting “WITCH WITCH WITCH” until they strung her up or burned her at the stake. And to think my children were part of it. Hate kids.

Then I’ll be damned another kid called me crazy just a few months ago. I went to a friend’s house to hang out with her, her boyfriend and their kids. I’d never met his kid before so I hardly talked to him. I’m sitting there talking away, like usual, and this kid pipes up, “You’re crazy.” I laughed and asked if he just called me crazy. He again replied that I was crazy. So obviously I can’t go anywhere without a kid telling me like it is. Now I do realize I might be a little out there, and even a little crazy. But dammit, I don’t need reminded of it. And people wonder why I can’t stand kids.

Where’s The Hand Sanitizer? — January 21, 2015

Where’s The Hand Sanitizer?

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I was washing my hands in the bathroom at a local community college one day. Standing at the sink next to me was this other student. She’s was tall, pretty, young, looked like an average college student. She was washing her hands too. Well she proceeds to blow her nose into her left hand!!! Not into a tissue, not a paper towel but into her left hand. Then she rinses her hand off, lifts up her head and looks up her nose. She must have seen something because she blew her nose into her hand again. Then she looks over at me. I just finished washing my hands and got the hell out of there.

 I’m telling you women in public bathrooms are gross. There was another time at college that I went in, sat down (I always line the seat with toilet paper) and look over to my right and there is blood all over the bathroom stall wall. Not a couple drops either, huge smears of blood! Now how in the hell do you get blood on the wall? Was a woman like whipping her ass back and forth or what? Or was she trying to see if her tampon would stick? I mean really, blood? I still don’t understand that.

Just recently at work there was blood on the floor of the bathroom stall I had unfortunately chosen. It wasn’t even in front of the toilet, like the chick pulled her pants down and didn’t realize she had started. It was over to the side a bit, like she stood there looking down wondering what the fuck she was going to do. Of course she could have just been trying to create an inkblot test for those who ventured into the stall after her.

But here’s another one. How in the hell do people get shit on the back of the toilet seat? The back!? My asshole is not that far back. Are they like sitting on the clear back of the toilet seat? For what!? And do they not see the shit when they get up? Do they wipe and run? I’m sorry but I will turn around and make sure the toilet flushes. not that I want to see my own shit but I sure as hell don’t want anyone else seeing it either.

When I worked at a very large annuity company the women there were nasty also. Shit all over the seat. Or on the wall! The fucking WALL!!!! Like they wiped and got shit on their hand so they wiped it on the wall!!!! These were adult women! And they worked for a HUGE company! Things like this would always happen though.

Another thing that irritates me, I could be the only one in the bathroom with ten stalls, all open but mine. But it never fails that a woman has to come in and take the stall next to me and start taking a shit. I personally would go to the farthest away, but no, not the women I run into. Maybe they think they need a friend? There was this one time that this woman would flush every time she grunted. Like I didn’t know what the hell she was doing. Flushing every five seconds was more annoying than listening to her.

Now don’t get me wrong. There have been times that I just couldn’t help myself and had to go in a public bathroom. I was at Walmart one time and it hit me. I go in and there’s no one in there, great! Well I’m sitting there and a worker comes in and starts cleaning so I’m sitting there waiting. Well she’s sweeping the stalls to my left. Then she skips my stall and goes to the stalls on my right. Then (I’m not kidding you) she sticks her broom under my stall door, between my legs and sweeps my stall while I’m sitting there shitting. Had I not been so shocked I would have asked what the hell she was doing and couldn’t she wait two minutes? But I was stunned. So she finished cleaning and left. I wiped my ass and slunk out of the bathroom hoping to god she didn’t remember what my shoes looked like.

All I’m really saying is save the sick shit for your own personal bathroom at home. I really don’t need to be afraid of getting hepatitis in the bathroom or touching a door knob after seeing someone use their hand as a Kleenex. I wasn’t even raised by my mother and I STILL have more common sense than some of these women. Which that thought actually makes me wonder, are

Ink Blot Test!
Ink Blot Test!

men’s restrooms just as bad?

 

How About That? Cats CAN Fly! — January 19, 2015

How About That? Cats CAN Fly!

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Not many people may know that the cat Chleo I have now is actually Chleo the 2nd. The first Chleo I had to get rid of because it started pissing in my room. On my floor, on my textbooks, wherever it felt like it. Why the hell it started I don’t know, but you know cats, once they start peeing in a place they’ll keep going back. Well the cat was my younger son’s cat and I felt so guilty about getting rid of it that a few months after I decide to get him a kitten. Not just one kitten but I got 2!!!! Well these kittens were a few months old, maybe 4 and they had been living outside. But I figured we could love these little balls of fur and my son would quit crying about Chleo.

So I bring the cats home and after a lot of hissing at my fat cat Abby, they started getting used to the place. Well I was getting nervous because the damn cats weren’t using the litter box. I didn’t see them going anywhere else, but it was obvious the litter box was hardly being used. One day I walk in my son’s closet and sure enough step in cat shit. I had to throw a bunch of toys away and clean it up. Of course I was cussing the entire time. Then I found another place in his bedroom the cats had shit. Did I get rid of them??? No of course not, I thought, ok let’s just give them a little time.

I shut them up in the bathroom where the litter box was. Did this for a few days and sure enough they started using the litter box. Yeah! Well one day I walk in the bathroom right after the smallest kitten and I must have startled it because it ran right back out. I walk into my son’s room and there’s the little fucker shitting on my son’s bed!!!!! I had to clean the bed, flip the mattress, spray, the whole 9 yards. But did I get rid of the cat? No of course not. I still felt bad about getting rid of my son’s other cat so I put it back in the bathroom till it started using the litter box again.

A couple days go by and I’m thinking things are fine. I’m sleeping in bed one night, all snuggled under the covers. I woke up kind of groggy in the middle of the night and thought “God it stinks.” I’m smelling my pillows, bedding, my hair, hell even my under arms but can’t figure out where the smell is from. I’m tired so go back to sleep.

In the morning I go to stretch my legs and my leg hits something kind of wet. Well I’m half blind, didn’t have my glasses on and it was still dark so I kind of look down on my bed. Get my face up real close and see there’s this little lump. It looks exactly like one of those fake plastic poop piles that you can buy at a novelty store. So stupid me, still half asleep, I poke it with my finger. THE CAT SHIT IN MY BED!!!!! Oh my god I about hit the roof. I slept with cat shit all night. My god how gross.

I figured it had to have been that little fucking kitten again because I had seen the bigger kitten using the litter box. So I grab the little kitten put it in a cage and planned to drop it off at the shelter on my way to work. Cleaned the bed and flipped the mattress. I figured at least my son has the bigger kitten right?

Well that night I’m sitting by my bed and the bigger kitten jumps on my bed and starts walking around. I don’t think anything of it because cats will sometimes circle before they lay down. All of a sudden IT PISSES ON MY BED. COME ON NOW!!!!! I grabbed the fucking kitten and threw him with all my might out the back door. He flew up in the air, real good hang time too. As soon as he hit the ground he ran. I’m telling you I wanted to strangle it. I figured I’d rather hear a kid cry then deal with cats pissing and shitting in my bed.

The next day I come home from work and there’s a neighbor girl holding the bigger kitten and her mom standing there waiting for me. My neighbor asks me “Are you missing a cat?” I respond, “Nope not my cat” She says, “it looks like the cat you used to have.” So I say, “Don’t know what to tell you, it’s not my cat.” I am so going to hell for lying to this little girl.

So there you have it. In a 5 month period I’ve had three cats pissing and shitting on my bed. Cats hate me. But I love the fuckers so much. I have three cats now. My fat cat Abby Tabby seems to like me just fine. And now I have Chleo and Dorian Gray. Of course, his ass is evil. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if he shit in my bed one day. If he does though, I’ll just have to see how far he can fly.

THE DYER PARTY — January 17, 2015

THE DYER PARTY

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The summer after graduation I had a huge party out at my dad’s place in the country. I swear half of the town was there. During our partying and drinking there comes a knock on the door. I answer it and there’s this guy I’ve never seen before standing there. He asked me if I was having a party. He was kind of cute so I say “Yea, why don’t you come on in and have a beer?” Cutie replies, “Okay, give me minute though I have to call my friends.”

All of a sudden we have at least 10 cop cars swarming all over the yard! NO JOKE. We had city, county, excise, not to mention the fucking plain clothed detective who I invited in for a beer. They were chasing people through the fields, found them hiding in the barn, crossing the creek, it was a mad house.

Those of us that were caught got herded inside were we started taking breathalyzers. My one friend, who was drunk as a skunk, ran into the bedroom where another friend had their 5 year old sleeping. She jumped in bed with the kid just as a cop opened the door. She pretended he had woke her up and asked what was going on she was just watching the kid.  The cop said okay and let her go! Another friend lied about his damn name and got caught in the lie so he was taken to jail. One friend gave his cousin’s name (who was also at the party) the cop asked what my friend had blown on the breathalyzer test and he gave his cousin’s number. His ass got away scott free.

My favorite guy of the night was a kid who asked if he could go pee so the cops let him (this was before they even got his name or had him blow). He goes into the bathroom. About a half hour later the cops realize he never came back. The bathroom door was locked so the go around back. The kid had locked the door, crawled out the window and had gotten away HAHAHAHAHA.

The cops made me dump out the alcohol, including a bottle of wine my dad had. Of course I asked the officers if they would like a drink before it went down the drain. Give me a break, I was feeling pretty damn good. Cops couldn’t kill my buzz. The kids under 18 were made to call their parents to come get them. Those over 18 were “arrested” and not too drunk to drive were able to leave but had a court date to go to. I don’t think our small county Jail could hold all of us. After they left there were a whole bunch of us still sitting there. We had found some liquor hidden behind the couch and figured fuck it the cops weren’t coming back. So we drank that shit. HAHAHAH

That next week it was all over the front page of the paper “THE DYER PARTY”. Damn I must have made my dad proud. When we went to court we were given probation, counter measures, all that fun stuff, and told if we didn’t get into trouble in the next year it would be dropped from our records. So when our sentences were given once again in the paper “THE DYER PARTY”. Only about half of our group made in the next year without trouble. It took me two tried to make it through counter measures. The first time I kept falling asleep, I had been up partying all night the night before and Judge Heimann was just so damn boring. I actually got kicked out of counter measures for sleeping. The second time I had to keep punching and pinching my leg to stay awake.

When a year had passed we marched back to the court house for the follow up with the judge. We noticed there was a deputy in the back of the room. I was joking with everyone “Gee I wonder who he’s here for HAHA”. Ya guess what, the joke was on me. Before the proceedings even really began the prosecutor filed some additional (and unrelated) charges against me and my butt was hauled from the court house off to county. Why you ask? Well that’s a story for another day HAHAHAH Ah to be young again.

I can laugh about it now because it was minor stuff over 20 years ago and has never kept me from a job I wanted. But I’m telling you, that must have been one hell of a party. There’s still times (just last year) I’ll run into people and they’ll mention they were busted at my party and for the life of me I don’t know who the hell they are!

Things That Make You Go HMMMMM — January 15, 2015

Things That Make You Go HMMMMM

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Back when I was younger I was dating a man who was at least ten years older than I. Being young and stupid I didn’t quite know how to react to some of his, hmmm, how shall I say, his sexual proclivities. For instance, shortly after we started dating we were lying in bed and somehow the subject came up about guys who could suck their own dicks. He proceeds to tell me he could suck his. I must have gotten an odd look on my face when he said this because he quickly added, “You know you would lick your own pussy if you could.” If you were wondering…No I wouldn’t. Of course I said ya right. He rolled up in a ball with his head on the bed, his back against the headboard and his legs flipped over his head touching the bed. Now I can’t honestly say I saw him put his dick in his mouth. Probably because I soon left the room. But the fact he tried made me start to wonder.

There was another time we were making out on my couch. I was lying on top of him and we were getting so into it I thought we’d have to strip and attack each other right there. It was getting hot and heavy, he’s kissing my neck, rubbing me. Then he whispers in my ear, “I want to cum in your mouth and have you share it with me.” I didn’t know what the Hell to think so I just ignored his comment. But trust me; my mind was no longer thinking of sex. I was wondering what the fuck he was talking about. What guy would want to taste his own cum??? Honestly in my early 20’s I didn’t know what the Hell “snowballing” was. I had to ask my friends.  Made me wish I hadn’t.

Shortly after that experience he was out of town and we were having phone sex. I’m talking dirty as Hell. Really enjoying myself, making all kinds of orgasm sounds, saying the nastiest stuff possible. Of course in reality I was sitting there in my pajamas. But hey it’s all play right? Well he’s talking to me about what he’s doing to himself. I could tell he was really getting into it, louder breathing, noises, and moans. I’m sure he wasn’t in HIS jammies. Right when I could tell he’s losing it he shouts, “Oh I’m cuming! I’m cuming! Oh it’s getting in my mouth! I can taste it! Oh yeaaaaaaa!!!” I pulled the phone away from my face and looked at it like, “What the fuck did he just say?”

But it wasn’t until the day I walked into my living room and found him naked on the floor that I thought he might be freaky. Dude was lying on his back, legs up in the air, spreading his ass cheeks apart with his hands, yelling “LICK MY ASSHOLE!!! LICK MY ASSHOLE!!!” I didn’t know what the fuck to do. And well, being young and in shock I licked the man’s asshole. Give me a break. Like you’ve never liked an ass.

 

Now that I’m older, wiser, more mature, I’ll tell a fucker to get the Hell out. I’ve made more than one man cry. Damn that’s bad. But you know what? At this point in life it’s all about me. Well, it would be if I were getting any. At any rate, at least there’s no more ass licking in my foreseeable future.

I’m A 10 Just Like Bo Derek! — January 11, 2015

I’m A 10 Just Like Bo Derek!

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Back during senior year of high school we had a senior picnic at Pine Lake. I didn’t have a swimsuit so my friend Steve and I went shopping for one. Took us awhile to find one that I thought would work. We found this really cute white one piece. It had a halter top with a design where it plunged down so it would accentuate what little chest I had.

We were at the picnic swimming and having fun. I had been in the water and decided to get out. I’m stepping up out of the water, flipping my hair, rocking my bod, strutting like Bo Derek in 10. Thinking I look hot as Hell as I sashayed and waved at people. I was going to make those senior guys eat their hearts out for not paying me any attention all through school. All of a sudden Steve, who was up on the beach sitting on our towels, starts laughing hysterically. It seems you could see right through my wet swimsuit. And I do mean right through it. My hair was dark as Hell and back in the day I was sporting quite a bush. Hey it was the early 90’s before a thing called Brazilian waxing.

There I am knee deep in water, in front of the entire senior class showing my bush, oh and let’s not forget my big ass brown nipples because those suckers were showing right through too. I’ve had more than one man tell me my areolas are the size of pepperonis. So when I say bush and nipples showing I’m not kidding. I had to run through the water the rest of the way. Felt like slow motion as I tried to have one arm across my chest and the other covering my crotch. Splashing through this damn water all the way up the beach to my clothes. All while the entire fucking class was laughing and laughing.

Now you would think that after that humiliation I would have stayed away from my classmates after we graduated. Ya, well, that’s not my style. After we graduated there was a party at a classmate’s house in the country. They had a pond and of course we were drinking so we weren’t thinking normal. One of my friends, her boyfriend and I decided to go skinny dipping in this pond. So yes, once again, the class saw my goodies. Only this time there wasn’t a think piece of see through white covering me. Of course in my defense that was over 20 years, 2 kids and 50 pounds ago so my goodies weren’t half bad. HAHAHA

Can You Say That Again Officer???? — January 10, 2015

Can You Say That Again Officer????

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Years ago I had gone out to Piere’s with a few friends. I was drinking, having fun and at one point talking on the phone to a friend of ours who I had a flirty relationship with. It seems it was his birthday and he was sitting home all by his lonesome. Well I’d been drinking, and he and I always seem to have the hots for each other. So when he told me I should be his birthday present I thought why not.

I jump into my car, it was about 1am, and start heading to Columbia City. I decided to take old 30. It was the back way from Piere’s and I figured it would keep me off the main highway. With it being a country road I’m quite sure I was speeding. Hell, knowing me I was probably driving in the middle of the road. Those country roads tend to be narrow with no lines and I was just driving along, trying to remember the way to this guy’s house.

Suddenly I see it…Those fucking blue and red lights in my rearview mirror. Only someone who has been pulled over when drinking can understand the complete gut retching feeling. Your heart pounds as if you are having a heart attack, you feel like puking and the only words going through one’s mind is, “Oh Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck” So I pulled over.

When the officer came up to my window I handed him my driver’s license, registration and insurance card. He glanced at it, shown his flashlight on my face, and then our conversation proceeded as such:

“Where are you headed?”

“To a friend’s house in Columbia City”

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“Well I don’t know his real name, just his nickname.”

“Where does he live?”

“I’m not sure of the address, but I think I know how to get there.”

“Why are you going there?”

“Well, it’s his birthday and I guess I’m his present.” (As I shrug my shoulders, hold my palms up and kind of nod my head with a “ya know” look)

“Where are you coming from?”

“Piere’s”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“A lot.”

At that point the officer asked me to step out of the car. I just knew I was fucked. I had to do the standard toe to heel walking and touch my nose. I thought I did ok on that until he pulled out the breathalyzer. He had me blow and kept having to tell me to blow harder and to not stop until he said so. I did as I was told and blew a .05. Although most people would think since I was under .08 I was fine and he would let me go. But see, I knew better. I had already admitted to drinking, a lot, and since I blew a .05 it was really up to the officer’s discretion if I should be arrested or not. Then this fucker did something that really threw me for a loop.

He looked at the breathalyzer, looked at me, then said:

“I want you to count backwards from 100 by 7’s.”

“Excuse me?”

“Count backwards by 7’s.”

“You want me to do what?”

“I want you to count backwards from 100 by 7’s.”

Now, I’m panicking at this point. That shit is hard enough sober let alone when I’ve been drinking! I’ve had cops ask me where I worked, ask who I was dating, put handcuffs on me just to see if I could get out of them, Hell even had one ask me out. But I’ve never even HEARD of an officer asking someone to count backwards by 7’s. This is where Karma, the grace of God or plain and simple good luck was shining on me. I’ve always been good at math. As a child we’re talking (3-4) I would do math problems for fun. So I started praying and counting.

“100, 93, 86, 79, 72, 65, “

At that point he told me I could stop and return to my vehicle. After handing me back my license and registration he told me to drive safe and have a good night. He started walking back to his vehicle and you would have thought I would just leave. But of course not. I hang halfway out my window and yell, “Hey! Hey officer! How do I get to Columbia City? My friend ________ is still expecting me to come over for his birthday!” I’m shocked as shit he didn’t just come back and arrest me. Instead he gave me directions. Maybe it was my awesome math skills or he just wanted _________ to have a good birthday. Either way, my ass got lucky that night. Twice…

I’m horny, do you have a towel? — January 9, 2015

I’m horny, do you have a towel?

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Awhile back I decided to go and see a dollar movie. I love watching cheap movies, ones that usually aren’t on video yet, and eating big bag of popcorn. As soon as I walked into the theater and start heading to pay I felt a sneeze coming on. I tried to hold back so it would be just a little one. Well that didn’t work. What happened is I had a huge green gob of snot flying from my nose down my chin. I ran right past the register and grabbed napkins at the concession stand. As I was trying to wipe the snot from my face I nod at the girl at the register and go to the bathroom to clean up. Very gross and very embarrassing. Walking back up to the register to pay was worse than a walk of shame. But hey, at least it wasn’t busy and only the cashier saw my humiliation.

This incident brought back memories of middle school. There was this girl that I had been friends with. My friend and I were walking to lunch one day and she sneezed, big time. She covered her nose with her hand because that’s a normal reaction when you sneeze.  But here’s where we’re different. Her hand was full of snot when she pulled it away. When she covered her nose she blew this thick gob of dark green snot into her hand. She looked at her hand then proceeded to wipe her hand on her pants. I’m not kidding. Snot all over her pants, just wiped her hand off and said let’s go to lunch. Of course I didn’t say anything. For one, I really like food and even snot isn’t going to detour me from eating but also because she was my friend. At that time I was younger and, believe it or not, cared about people’s feelings. Or maybe I was just as weird as her. Fuck if I know. I hope not though.

This is also the girl who liked this one guy and no matter how hard she tried he wouldn’t go out with her. Well one day they were hanging out at her house, drinking, laughing, just having fun and he must have gotten drunk enough to say fuck it, why not? So she and this guy start messing around and he has the audacity to ask her if she would put a towel over her head before he would have sex with her! Of course when she’s telling me this I’m thinking she’s going to follow through with a slap to the face or a kick to the nuts. But no, she had sex with the guy and complied when he asked her to put a towel over her face. NO KIDDING.

I don’t give a shit how horny I am if some mother fucker asked me put a towel over my face I’d punch him in the head. How would you even respond to that? “Ok, sure, should I get a hand, bath, or beach towel?” Seriously though, looking back at my past relationships it makes me wonder if I should have asked for a towel once in a while. Not for me of course, but some of those fuckers I dated were ugly HAHAHA

UM, CAN WE HAVE A NEW DOCTOR? — January 8, 2015

UM, CAN WE HAVE A NEW DOCTOR?

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One night a few years back I went to the ER with a friend. She had this really sore spot, maybe a cyst, at the bottom of her neck, near her chest. Also, she had quite a lot of pain in her lymph nodes under her arms. We are sitting in the room and the doc comes in and introduces himself to my friend then looks at me and says “Are you mom?” WHAT THE FUCK! I say, “Mom! I hope to hell not she’s 29. Jesus how old do I look!?!?!?!” So doc says “I’m really tired, I’m just tired.” And my friend giggles “Maybe I just look that young?” To which I respond, “What like 12?!” So then doc starts looking at my friend’s neck and feeling her lymph nodes.

He looks at her like she’s an idiot and says “Do you know what it is?” All confused she responds, “Uh, No, I was hoping that’s what you could tell me.” So then he says, “What do you want me to do?” At this point I realized we weren’t dealing with the brightest doctor known to man or maybe he hadn’t slept in like, a week. I decide to interject before my friend started crying. “Look she has had a cyst before from an ingrown hair that she didn’t have checked right away. She just wants to have this checked before it gets worse.” So he looks at her and says, without a hint of humor, “Well you’re not growing hair on your chest are you?”

At this point my friend looks at me as if, what the fuck is his deal. So I ask what about the lymph nodes. My friend tells doc how she knows someone in the medical field and that they told her that if there was an infection in the thing on her neck it could be draining and causing the pain in her lymph nodes under her arms. So this doctor, and I’m not shitting you, says “Hmm anatomy, I have to remember my anatomy lessons” At this point he takes the palm of his hand and starts slapping it against his forehead, over and over.  “Anatomy (slap), Anatomy (slap). Think anatomy (slap)”. My friend and I just keep looking at each other wondering what the hell was up this guy! Was he even a doctor????

Finally he writes her a prescription for an antibiotic and we go on our way. I told my friend I felt sorry if a true emergency came in if dude had to use his palm to try to jar a damn anatomy lesson loose. Wonder what the hell he’d have to do for a broken leg?

I’M KICKING MY ASS, DO YOU MIND! — January 7, 2015

I’M KICKING MY ASS, DO YOU MIND!

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Went out with this rebound guy one night and we ended up at Vinnie’s where some of our friends were. I was drunk as a skunk, ya I know, not unusual Ha-ha. Well this guy and I were sitting at a table with a couple of friends. We were drinking, having a good time and an ex who had destroyed my heart came in. Between seeing him and the alcohol I drank I looked at my rebound guy and just hated the fact I was with him. He said something stupid, not even bad, but I just hauled off and slapped the guy I was with. For no reason! I’m not kidding, and I’m not one of those women who thinks it’s okay for a woman to hit a man. I slapped him harder than I have ever slapped anyone in my life. This dude was big too, 6’2” and out weighed me by almost a hundred pounds.

He sat there just looking at me, and then slowly said, “Why did you do that?” I’m stuttering, “Oh that didn’t hurt.” And he replied, “Yes it did.” So I say, “No it didn’t, see!” At which point I slapped myself so hard I about fell out of my chair. Yes folks, if you saw that drunken crazy bitch slapping the shit out of herself at Vinnie’s one night, well that was me. Kind of like Jim Carrey in the movie Liar Liar when he’s in the bathroom kicking his own ass. After I slapped myself silly I realized I was fucked up beyond fucked up. And if I didn’t leave soon I’d probably end up getting my ass kicked. Or kicking my own ass who the Hell knows.

I started walking home, in the winter, dead of night.  Traipsing along in the cold and snow hoping I would make it the few miles home before I fell over into a ditch. I made it almost the whole way then a friend saw me and picked me up. And yes, to answer your question, we did continue dating. Of course had I been able to read the future I would have just slapped him twice that night and ended it right there. HAHAHA