Rainy Day People

My favorite song of the week is Rainy Day People by Gordon Lightfoot. Life would be grand if everyone could be a Rainy Day Lover...

I know how much you've all missed me in the month I vacated my blog writing so here is a concentrated effort to let you all know what kind of bullshit has been mixing around in my bowl. It may look like chocolate frosting, but it's still all shit.

On a good note, I have whittled my work week down a bit as I no longer employ myself at the Capeway. I think that I'm going through a phase of not wanting to nor feeling the need to be nice. Fuck it, why does one ALWAYS have to take the high road? If I venture off the path of righteousness for a moment, does that make me a terrible person? Whatever the answer is, I don't actually give a fuck. I'm tired of making excuses for grown-ass people and their choice to be dicks.

I was down in my Well of Niceness the other day with a pickaxe and shovel, trying like hell to get just a drop of nice out of it, and I thought, "What the fuck am I doing?" so I took a little trip down to Lowes and bought some concrete mix and filled my Well of Niceness to the brim with it. Try and break through THAT muthafuckas!

I made a trip out to Ohio just before Thanksgiving to meet a few of The Scumbag's friends. Even though it was Ohio, I had a pretty good time. That was the end of my fun for November. The last few days have been challenging and rewarding at the same time.

I've never been much of a game player, nor I have I ever really been much of a team player. My adoption report from the orphanage reported me as a well adjusted 2-year-old who doesn't play well with others. Not really my fault,the other little punk orphans probably deserved whatever kick in the shins or bite on the arm I gave them. Fucking heathens.

I am finding in my older age, however, that at some point you are forced to play "The Game". I remember now why I most always choose not to be in a relationship. I am a simple girl and don't really ask much of anyone. Don't lie. Don't cheat. That's pretty much it. I've never lived in that fantasy world where one receives flowers, jewels, random cards, or shared responsibilities, and I don't now. I'm not psychotic, nor have I ever been, and I don't think there is a man alive that could push me to the brink of psychosis. Sure, I get angry, but even then you've got to push all million of my buttons. Where is all this coming from or going you ask? The Scumbag (formerly known as The D Team) has evidently come to the conclusion that I'm dumber than I look most of the time and that I will accept (bad) lies to my face. Not too bright on his part. Not for nothing, his words and actions over the past couple of weeks have negated any rules of a relationship that are supposed to be followed. I'm not, and will never be a she-man-man-hater, and as a chick I'll continue to give the boys much more credit than they deserve for being as simple as they claim, but c'mon guys...honesty is the only policy. If you just want to fuck, say you just want to fuck. 9 out of 10 of us females will be more than happy to do so. We don't want your bullshit any more than you want ours. Lets just take the gloves off and get right down to it. We don't NEED you. We have fingers, toys, and artificial insemination, but there's no substitute for the real thing, so quit feeding us bullshit lines, shut your mouths and whip it out. Just make sure you know how to use it first.