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The Girl and The Can

The weather was windy and… you know, fuck the weather. Why does it get to have the bloody introduction here. This is my story damn it. I’m gonna tell it how ever I want!

I was walking home from such a lovely day at work. Those bastards. The customers were pissy all day long. Complaining about this and that. Not realizing it’s not my fault our cooks suck and couldn’t even make toast! Unfortunately their tips reflected it perfectly too. Five dollars, three fifty, oh and my favorite, seventy-five cents. Do they not realize how much I busted my ass for them?

Well, I made the wonderful mistake of walking right up to that asshole before he left and throwing his change back at him. “Here Sir, you obviously forgot something. You must need it a lot more than me.” It’s safe to say that’s when and where my manager decided to talk me into the back.

“Sally, look, I don’t want to say this but,” Of course he meant to say it, his face had that ugly smug look it always did. Like just because he bought clip on ties he was better than all of us. “we’ve had quite a few complaints today. I’m sorry to say that this isn’t the first time either. We’re going to have to let you go.”

I didn’t waste two seconds before throwing my apron in his face and storming out of the place. I flicked off every single one of those fuckers too as I made my way to the door.

Which brings me back to the beginning of the story with that stupid wind. As if my day wasn’t shit enough already, the wind decided to fuck up any smidge of vanity or beauty I thought I had and blow my hair right into my damn face. I could barely see.

I was just about home and getting the stupid hair out of my face. That’s when I saw it. Bob’s fucking trashcan, placed ever so lovingly on my side of the god damned driveway. It’s bad enough I shared a car park with that fat slob but every week he chooses to place his can as far over my side as he possibly can. I kicked at the can and threw it down the street, watching it roll all the way down. Have fun chasing after that one tubs.

I entered my house and my cats greeted me at the front door, at least I didn’t mind that too much. But what’s this, a pile of bills and three missed calls from my ex-mother-in-law. Fan-fucking-tastic. My day truly could not have gotten much worse. But I dare not say it at the moment. I may seem cynical or pessimistic, but I still believe in Karma.

Anyway, I sat down with the kitties, took my shoes off, and finally got a chance to relax. And that’s the exact moment I remember, I didn’t have a fucking job in the first place… What the fuck? That’s also when those lovely white walls began to reappear. All cushioned and padded for my convenience.

I wonder if the boys will believe this one. Ha.


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Are You One Of These People?


I would give my pet peeves away. How about you?

Here is the Prompt for day three, so I’ll finally be caught up. Your 5 Pet Peeves:

Pet peeves, let’s see. This is quite a hard one for me. Mostly because if something truly bother’s me that someone does, I tend to ignore it or them. But I guess it could also refer to my personal pet peeves.

First would have to be people that interrupt you while you are doing something important. Not only do they interrupt you, they then go on to ask questions of what you’re doing and talk about their day. Now, I normally try to be a nice guy, and I’ll talk to someone if they start talking to me. But some people just can’t take a hint. This especially applies when I’m writing and have a really good write flow going.

Second is poor drivers. I know it’s used quite often but it really annoys me sometimes. I’m not saying slow drivers, unless excessively slow. I’m talking about people who tailgate very close behind you, forget turn signals and cut you off, and just plain old not paying attention. Most of time I’ve noticed it has to do with a hat. If the driver is wearing a hat or there is one in the back window, chances are they’re a bad driver.

Third would probably be having food taken away or off my plate, especially applies when I haven’t even been asked. I hate when I’m out with friends or something like that, and they steal a fry or some food. “Oh but it’s just one fry.” Yes, but it’s just one fry that I’ve bought with my own money, when you chose not to buy yourself anything. Even when I knew you had money. It is my food, bought with my hard earned money, please let me enjoy it and all of it. Continue reading

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Filed under 30 Day Blog Challenge, Prompt

A Year and A Half of Confusion and Happiness

Today’s Blog prompt was to write about my current relationship:

The day I first saw Katrina I knew I had to talk to her, and of course, flirt with her. I knew I was going to like her. Mostly because my friend James and I made fun of her when she went to the front of the class to tell how she got cheap textbooks. It’s that old saying, “if they’re mean to you it means they like you.”

A little over a month and we were dating, although many people said we were dating after two weeks of meeting. It was a very great relationship and probably one of the best ones I’ve had. It ended a year and a month later. We remained friends though, and after sometime, started going on dates here and there. Continue reading

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Filed under 30 Day Blog Challenge, Non Fiction, Prompt

A Gift You Received and Lied About Liking

I was six when I first lied to my mother. Well, the first time I remember lying to her that is. It was probably a few days after. The new package has arrived my father said. His smiled told me all I needed to know. It was exactly what he always wanted.

I sat in the middle of the floor and spread out my toys as far as I could, blocking all available pathways. My father asked if I wanted to come with or just stay there with my grandparents.

I’ll stay here thanks. It had been a week since I’d seen my mother at home. I didn’t want to see her like that. I wanted to see her home! I wanted her with me!

Where’s the damn jelly, dear. My grandfather yelled from the other room. My grandmother was asleep, watching one of my movies. I tried to ignore them the best I could. I was not a happy six year old. Continue reading

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