I was going to rant about being happy – or, rather, the ridiculous businesses being built up AROUND the culture of being happy – or PRETENDING to be happy – or – whatever. Look, for me, I get annoyed when people start telling me I’m unhappy or depressed. Fuck you. Don’t label my perfectly reasonable reactions to a perfectly fucking rotten life in which absolutely fucking awful and mean people have thrown me under a bus and betrayed me and treated me like shit as “DEPRESSION” – I’m not depressed, you jackass, I’m reacting like any sane person would to the shitstorm. Anyway – I already wrote that: and here it is:
It was popular, but not nearly as possible as my story about being a big dick – as opposed to having a big dick. Which is here:
I just got back from my weekly Sunday morning foray out into the world to purchase a New York Times. The closest place to do so is the grocery store four miles from my house where I usually do my food shopping. They routinely run out of Sunday New York Times by 10 a.m. which begs the question; “WHY NOT GET MORE?” I have asked. I have gotten a ridiculous answer about the decision not being theirs and on and on. Apparently the ENTIRE world is run by number-crunching autobots hidden away in the offices of the huge corporations located in foreign countries with lower tax rates. I NO LONGER believe this BULLSHIT explanation – a version of which is ALWAYS the answer in ANY RETAIL OUTLET and which – in essence equals – “IT IS NOT MY RESPONSIBILITY.”
No one is to blame. Okay. Well, since I cannot BEAT them, I will join them. NOTHING IS ANY LONGER MY FAULT.
Which is why I now wish that I would have plowed into the two people at two separate times in the grocery store parking lot who were going the wrong way up (or down) one direction lanes. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? The first time, I politely moved my car so she could get by. Sadly, the second driver received my accumulated wrath and I would not move. SHE WAS GOING THE WRONG FUCKING WAY. She started beeping because I stopped and wouldn’t sidle my car over. I pointed – meaning – “you are going the wrong way and need to back up” and she just sat there. Whatever. I would have sat there all day. She beeped for a while, I raised my hands like – “Beep all day jackhole” and she finally backed up, giving me the finger of course. I smiled politely and rolled down my window and shouted, “Have a nice day fuckwad.”
IT WAS NOT MY FAULT. The lanes were clearly marked and she was going the wrong way. If she has an issue with it she should complain to the parking-lot-traffic-flow designers crunching numbers and drawing up plans somewhere in – I don’t know – Gambia or somewhere like that.
Fuck this shit.
P.S. It’s been a busy few weeks of holding people up who are weeping so I missed my boyfriend Russell Tovey’s birthday and the JoBros breakup. Oh life.