What Sucks - By JMKeel
Rude People Suck
Rude People Really Suck
Mothers who abandon their children (The thought of this makes me cry - didn't anyone ever see "Kramer vs. Kramer"? To this day, as great an actress as she is...I have a dislike for Meryl Streep for dumping Dustin and Justin)
People with Egos
People who THINK they know it all when they know abso-frikkin'-lutely nothing!
People who cut you off when you're talking and then speak for you
People who don't have a friggin' clue
Me because I ate the bottom of my husband's leftover birthday cake since that's the best part - I'm so selfish
People who talk to you when you're working out hard even though you tell them that you're not very talkative while you work out and you don't mean to be rude but you need every ounce of energy to get through your workout...and then they still proceed to ask you questions or tell you about their life stories which are quite mundane from your perspective since you have no idea who they even are.
Pushy People
Me because I find a lot of things that suck
Really cold weather
The fact that life is so damn short
Extremely rude and egotistical and pushy people
People who get offended easily over non-offensive stuff...but then most likely abandon their children
People who find things like pornography offensive...but then turn around and treat someone rudely...and then abandon their children.
You know what doesn't suck? A good thunderstorm on a dark night accompanied by an old Count Dracula movie...that's actually something I find to be quite erotic and intriguing - always have - even as a little kid (note the irony - Dracula doesn't suck.)
You know what else doesn't suck but what's kinda weird? This morning, when I turned on my car radio first thing - 97.5FM - I just missed the intro to "Sweet Child of Mine" but caught the song moving into the very first verse. And on my way home from work - same radio station - I caught the exact same song at the exact same moment - right past the intro and moving into the first verse. Weird cuz I love that song and haven't heard it in awhile. I have no idea what that means (which means it probably means absolutely nothing) - but that didn't suck at all. That was actually quite cool.
Being tired at 9:41pm on a Friday night sucks...and so does writer's block.
Due to the violent nature of this entry, I am removing all guarantees from my template letter that I posted yesterday. Use at your own risk.
Dear Joanne:
Good to hear from you! It was with such pleasure and great slowness that I read your letter, as one can only read so fast with one eye. I am doing very well. I haven’t had a date in years and the back of my head has split open like a cracked melon. Yes, I’m doing very well indeed. So well, you skanky whore, that I can’t thank you enough for all the friggin’ love you bestowed upon me throughout our years together. The babes are especially attracted to that sorry-excuse-for-an-eye that your special surgeon – Dr. Fuck Up – created for me. I really enjoyed the sharp pinch of that needle going in and out of my empty eye socket. Thanks for pulling out the stitches over and over again, you dumb bitch. And thanks for yanking my ears off from time to time. That was always a real trip. I can hear about as much as Helen Keller now, and I can almost read lips when my one good eye isn’t dangling from a thread.
You’re probably sitting there, looking all cute with your two eyes, two ears, and your feet. Did you ever try to get a date looking a step above roadkill, you no good, c*^k-sucking slut? Did you ever try to walk with no feet? Did you ever try to kiss someone when you have no lips? I can’t even get a place on the Island of MisFit Toys thanks to your wonderful “affection” and “cuddling”. Charlie-In-the-Box tells me there’s a big difference between a MisFit and a grade-A, low life ugly mother-f*^ker such as myself, you mother-f*^king Scumbag.
I’m gonna get you, bitch! You’re ass is mine, you skank!
By the way, how’s that trampy sister of yours doing? Ask her if she remembers that neck surgery she hired Dr. Mommy to perform on our good friend, Saddy Face. Tell her that the piece of raggy-ass towel that the Good Doctor shoved inside his neck now smells like rotting flesh, which is perfect since he looks like a freakin’ rotting corpse. He’s a real hit at parties. Tell that ho sister of yours that Saddy “the Slasher” Face sends his love.
I look forward to the day when I can rip out one of your eyes and staple it shut. I dream about the night when I can tear off your lips and shove them up your hoity-toity ass, Girlfriend.
Keepin’ it real – still lovin ya lots!
Bunny the Basher
P.S. We did have good times together back in the day, huh. Thanks for the f*^kin’ memories!
This letter is for parents everywhere to use as a template for children who must part ways with any friends of the Stuffed-Toy race.
Inspired by true events
Dear Bunny:
Oh how I miss you so. I miss your orange belly button – at least I think it was orange – it was always kinda dirty…actually, your whole body – which I used to hug against my own - was stained with dirt. I would have probably been better off hugging a bag of garbage since it probably would’ve been less of a health hazard…but, anyways, I still miss you in spite of your lack of personal hygiene. You’re filthy yellow and blue belly brought me joy, and even though you didn’t have any feet…because your little pink, bendable appendages at some point fell off and even Dr. Mommy – who was a real specialist in bunny surgery – couldn’t reattach them – you still brought me joy. I cry at the thought of your footless existence. You were such a trooper in spite of your handicap. I barely noticed your missing eye (which was quite nightmarish now that I think about it…that asterisk-shaped eye made of black thread staring into nothingness), and your floppy ears that must’ve fallen off at least 50 times…which gave you a head the shape of a rotten peach…making you completely bald like Mister Clean since any fur you once possessed had completely fallen off….never noticed it. Even though you resembled something that had returned from Stephen King’s Pet Cematery…you still brought me such joy. I loved to snuggle up with you at night and wake to your one-eyed face, and once I stopped screaming from the nightmarish quality of that one-eye staring at me…I would kiss you. But I never noticed that you didn’t have a mouth…or a nose. Well, you kinda had a nose…but most of it had peeled off your face by the time I was 3 years old. But I knew you didn’t suffer from leprosy. You just suffered from too much loving.
So, Bunny, I know not where you are…but wherever it is…I know you’re happy.
P.S. Did you ever get that rip in your back fixed so your guts don’t pour out anymore? I hope so.
Love,
Joanne
