Today I'm not going to talk about the doctor's appointment I had this morning with yet another sanctimonious prick who would make a nice bookend to the other poop sniffer I saw last week. I'm also not going to bring up my unrelenting fears that something really wrong is going on, again, and I'm being swept under the proverbial rug with the rest of most women who are deemed hysterical and silly then end up in a casket for their 40th birthdays. Their guts rotted from the inside out with some horrible disease. I'm also not going to mention that I'm afraid I'm giving out some violent skunky pheromone making medical professionals hate me upon sight.
Nope. Gonna keep my lip zipped about all that today. I just need to mention one teeny tiny thing and then we'll all move on.
God damn mother fucking condescending unhelpful know it all smug stupid contemptible asshole buttwipe selfish prick superior god complex flippant no regard for patients feelings or well being lazy forgetful negligent fuckface preoccupied pre set agenda prejudiced dickwad irresponsible unreliable untrustworthy uncaring apathetic giant steaming piles and pieces of shit dickhead tightass ignorant preoccupied jackfucks who should be kicked in the twig as soon as they open their arrogant fat mouths sucking a new level of dickless wonder mother humper bunghole stink suckitude times ten to the nth power infinity fucking fuck fuck doctors .
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I like cheese.
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Company Christmas parties.
~blorp~
Oh, excuse me. I just mini-puked onto my keyboard.
Yes, I will be subjected to a Chris...oh, my apologies, A "Mandatory Holiday Non-Denominational Gala Celebration Please Only Refer to the Decorated Tree as Festival Foliage Since We're in No Way Singling Out Any One Faith" tomorrow complete with white-elephant everyone always steals my gift exchange and lovely appetizers provided by our very own crapateria. Last year they served liver wrapped in wiggly bacon. It was yummy.
Without getting too detailed, since I'm being oh-so-secretive today, I fucking hate this party. I also get jacked every year and end up with some shitty gift like a wooden moose made from some fuckers kid's 10th grade shop class that shits jellybeans or a brick of plastic wrapped mystery meat that does not require refrigeration. I'm forced to spend 2 hours with 25 people I can't stand and watch everyone kiss our big bosses ass. And they even don't serve booze!
I have to go buy my contribution to the gift-exchange tonight and I really want to bring something horrible like a hand made toaster-oven cozy bought at a church bazaar made from pink and gold yarn with little plastic baby Jesus' sewn in. But no. I'm an attention whore and get off on bringing the best present so I won't rip anyone else off and further screw my tainted Karma with an electronic fart maker. I'll go out tonight and get something awesome in hopes that someone will recognize my awesomeness but will probably be glossed over by the asshole who out-impresses me with the remote control car that launches rockets from the roof rack.
I hate this stupid party. Bah.
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