If I had a bedroom to be swishing up and down in I would be at this moment doing so.

However, I ain’t got and this is it.

I’m highstrung, ready to snap. Twang! There she goes. Pop! Crackle!Snap! Don’t know why either.

Have had a virus that finally gave up. And enough hospital visits to earn frequent patient miles. Glad it’s gone and it damn well better stay that way. This falling apart routine is getting mighty tiresome. And unnecessary. Looked in the mirror and nearly fainted – looks like the Civil War just marched all over me.

Here is what I dislike, detest, and plain don’t want to know about:

People who are pathological liars.  People who pretend to be a genre they aren’t.

People who invite you places – but make you pay for the priviledge and you wouldn’t have bothered going there with them anyway, but you get soft in the dome and turn off the b.s. radar which should be on 24/7 as it stands. Pyschic vampires they are indeed.
And then you turn around and get mad at yourself for being swindled again. Welll…I tell you a new day is dawning in my tiny dome. The entertainment committee has been excused for the next 200 years  and I don’t care what craven gifts you dangle before me, you’d better just get the hell out of my way before I knock you galleywest.I’m mad as hell and not going to take it anymore! You’re a sad sorry excuse and a bit of a sadist as well. Any charms you may have had (and I don’t think you did somehow) disappeared long long ago. Oh, I do feel better now, a bit. If you were in the room, I’d smack you with a ..a….oh the first thing handy. A hairbrush, throw a book at you, or just fling you down the stairs lickety split.

Well now, pitching a fit  did help.

 

 

 

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