And a shitty rotten horrible friend he is today. Suffice to say, I don't feel up for details about our fight right now. I am tempted to rant about his cruelty and his hatefulness and his spiteful muthafuckin' ass, but I won't.
No, actually I WILL!!! FUCK HIS SORRY ASS. (please, people, it's a public service)
He's not lucky. I'm not lucky either. I don't believe in luck. I don't know how many times I hear "YOUR HUSBAND IS A LUCKY MAN!"
NO HE ISN'T!!! Please, allow me to clarify.
He's not lucky. In fact most days, he's an idiot. Or as my friend, xerxes would say, an EEJIT. My man is cruel, he is spiteful, he is a hateful piece of shit, and an asshole, and I married him. It doesn't make him lucky.
It makes me a mutha fuckin' matyr. I'm ready to sacrifice everything for a scrap of freedom.
I married a bully. That's the title of my lifetime movie. Margaret Cho will be casted as me. Chevy Chase plays my husband in this terrible tv movie. Let the hijinx ensue!
What am I listening to? Why, "LOVE THE LIE" by Sage Francis.
No, actually I WILL!!! FUCK HIS SORRY ASS. (please, people, it's a public service)
He's not lucky. I'm not lucky either. I don't believe in luck. I don't know how many times I hear "YOUR HUSBAND IS A LUCKY MAN!"
NO HE ISN'T!!! Please, allow me to clarify.
- A lucky man doesn't go off on his wife for talking to a clothed female on a webcam when we're just chitchatting girl stuffs. (AMIRITE, CHIPMUNK?!)
- A lucky man doesn't drive off and leave his wife at a Hardee's after making her beg for money and crossing the parking lot on foot instead of parking closer because I have a really bad hip that bothers me especially since I fell down the muthafuckin' stairs AGAIN (that's how i hurt my hip in the first place). Why would I assume he would drive off? Oh because he's done it before. FOR FUNSIES. That time, I could barely walk, similar to today and he's still pulling kiddie shit.
- A lucky man doesn't speed up to hit every bump as fast as he can, then say "WAHT?" when I start to cry in pain. Then throws a tantrum when I sob "Please say you're sorry."
- A lucky man doesn't snap his muthafuckin' fingers when I start crying to Flogging Molly.
He's not lucky. In fact most days, he's an idiot. Or as my friend, xerxes would say, an EEJIT. My man is cruel, he is spiteful, he is a hateful piece of shit, and an asshole, and I married him. It doesn't make him lucky.
It makes me a mutha fuckin' matyr. I'm ready to sacrifice everything for a scrap of freedom.
I married a bully. That's the title of my lifetime movie. Margaret Cho will be casted as me. Chevy Chase plays my husband in this terrible tv movie. Let the hijinx ensue!
What am I listening to? Why, "LOVE THE LIE" by Sage Francis.