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How I Ate Shit Due to Changing Air Currents

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Picture this:
Ho hum walking along, grab my purse out my car, looking super cute, ready to start my day, when all of sudden wouldn’t you know it but the fucking air currents shift and I’m falling pretty much on my face in the parking lot at work. Not only am I falling, but I’m falling so hard and turning slightly to the right that my left shoe comes flying the f.u.c.k. off and lands twenty feet away from me, my bag is behind me, my pants have one of those nasty parking lot grease stains on them, I’ve scraped my knee and elbow and I’m pretty sure the arm that is hopelessly pinned at an unnatural 45 degree angle behind me is broken.
Like the absolute pro that I am, I jump up and brush off my clothes, smooth my hair (because when you fall on your face your hair needs to be smoothed), grab my bag, ignore the stabbing pain in my right knee and arm, and hobble (mind you I still had one shoe on) over to my other forlorn and completely demolished shoe. I say a few comforting words over my fallen comrade, slide it back on, and try my best to not limp into the office.
The best part about this whole ordeal is that the office windows FACE the parking lot. Upon my entry into said office, I am treated to a standing ovation, complete with clapping and laughing. Thank you asshole shithead air currents for your fickle moods, damn you. Damn you to hell. That pretty much summed up my Wednesday.
Two days later I can confidently say that my arm is not broken, but I am still being very cautious when it comes to air current shifts. I’m pretty sure that many a life has been lost to its invisible push and pull, demanding human sacrifice to satisfy its evil whims. That and I think I’ll be avoiding three inch heels for the indefinite future since those are fo’ so’ air current magnets. Those motherfuckers must have on a blinking red light that says “Trip me.” It’s probably safer for my physical well being and whatever is left of my dignity if I just stay away.
Later that same day I was retelling the story of my brush with death due to air current shifts to a friend via text. And there’s the mistake, via text. It started with me telling her I pretty much demolished my shoe. (I’ve also taken the liberty of pretty much reconstruing and probably taking our entire conversation out of context, because it’s funnier that way)
Friend: What kind of shoe was it?
Me: guess (after a pause and thinking I should clarify, I added)
Me: the brand
Friend: OMG B***a, I don’t want to guess, what kind of brand………
Me: THAT IS THE BRAND
Friend: What is the Brand?!
Me: GUESS
Friend: Shit, forget this, what type of shoe is it
Me: The shoe is Guess
Friend: This is getting old and it’s not funny[ok I actually think that there was some cussing in here, and maybe a reference to Abbott and Costello]
Me: The shoe is Guess, you know the brand
Friend: No I don’t know the brand
Me: I’m telling you the brand
Friend: Forget it, was it a sneaker, a heel, a flat, a sandal….
Me: It was a pair of Guess Heels
Me: Yup…..I’ll send you a pic
Friend: Those shoes are TORE up!
Me: I know…….
And the rest of the conversation had something to do with not wearing hooker shoes and pretending I’m in my 20’s and going out binge drinking. I have the best friends yo’.
Now that I’ve tasted death, I’ve been doing a lot more goofing off at work trying to savor every moment of life. Which amounts to reading a lot of blogs. Blogs about blogs about nothing and just about everything. I like the blogs where I laugh out loud, and the ones where I have to run off to the bathroom and have a quick cry. Mostly I like the blogs that have a lot of swearing in them. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I have a filthy mind, or the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy. I think these are FUCKING HILARIOUS. So I think I’m going to start cussing more, straight up yo.
**** DISCLAIMER, the rest of this blog contains highly inappropriate language and name calling, do not continue if you don’t want your eyes to fall out of your head, or if you don’t want to go straight to Hell******
I mean my internal dialogue is filled with all sorts of colorful descriptors for various life situations.
Example:
1. “Isn’t that baby cute…”
(Internal answer) The fuck it isn’t. What the fuck happened to that poor kid, fucking scary little alien thing is going to eat my brains and shit.
(Actual Answer) Yes that is the cutest baby I’ve ever seen
2. “What do you think of my new boyfriend?”
(Internal answer) Where the fuck did this fuck face scrotum loving asshole come from. He better not be a total dickwad to my friend because then I will have to fuck him the fuck up. I’m going to have to shove shit up holes he didn’t know existed and break multiple fucking bones. I’ll probably be covered in blood and shit. And then my friend is going to call me a cock sucking whore. Shit. Why’d she get a boyfriend anyway. Our friendship is not totally going to be fucked.
(Actual Answer) I think he’s great.
3. “Does this make me look fat?”
(Internal Answer) Only if you like looking like you exploded into fifteen different fucking directions. Maybe if you exercised a little self fucking control your FAT FUCKING ASS wouldn’t be asking me this shit for brains question. God, get outside an exercise you fucktard. Shit, balls, fuck. Now I have to tell you a fucking lie so we can still be friends. mother fucker. Fuck you.
(Actual Answer) I think you look great just the way you are.
So you see, why censor myself here from your delicate sensibilities? My true friends know that the internal answers posted above is pretty much me straight up. And I am the shiz nitz.
Actually I am a toned down version of the shiz nitz.
Back in the day, before my near death experience, I had no filter. What was in my head came out my mouth, total and complete verbal diarrhea. Not so much because I didn’t care, I just didn’t care to filter myself, and after all, what good am I if I can’t give my 100% honest opinion. Yes, you look and act like a whore. No, I didn’t take the last wine cooler. Yes, I will sell your kidneys for a pack of cigarettes; all little gems of wisdom spouted by yours truly before the old filter on my responses thing truly mattered. There was also a shitload of cussing back then too. I mean assloads really. I had a truly filthy, disgusting mouth, and I so loved it.
But you know then I met my husband, and we had some kids and since my daughter has the special talent of repeating everything you say, after the 2nd week of her walking around the house saying “fucking retard” to everything and everyone, I decided I needed to put a smack down on the language, and a filter on my comments.
Sigh…. life has been slightly duller since.
But not to fear. I think one of things on my bucket list will be to get back to my pirate cursing ways if only on here. I’d like to expand the minds and vocabulary of all you my dear readers. And what better way than to use such wonderful and colorful nouns and verbs such as fuck, shit, cunt, bitch, cock, dick, balls, ass, ass + hole, etc….
See what almost crossing over into the white light can do for you. It can loosen a bitch up. So for now you cocksucking whores I’m off to enjoy the fucking weekend. Don’t ask me any stupid fucking questions because contrary to the popular belief there really are just stupid people.
And watch out for those fucking air currents. Those mother fuckers almost killed me.

About sars!

...new people with great stories to tell, anyone who will challenge my brain and not leave me feeling like I just sat through a two hour lecture on how to tie your shoe...

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