A History of Violence

Okay so there are a couple of things that I should divulge to my fiance before we tie the big fat knot.

I have a teeny-weeny ragey side.

There are a few things that spark this little ball of rage.

I'm not trying to say that I'm an angry person. I'm actually far from it. I hardly ever get angry. I'm more of a chill, laid-back, don't-sweat-it type of girl, really. But I have unleashed the beast a few times in my life.

I've decided to lay out the top 3 "sure things" that trigger my violent side. The first two have been consistently sources of rage while the last one is more recent and pretty much temporary.


I present to you.......
THE LIST OF "DO NOT FREAKIN' GO THERE, BRO":

NUMBER ONE: FAT ASS FLIES. I'm talking the huge fat ones that can barely fly due to their obese insecty state.

Like seriously. Ew.

Why God, why? Maybe I'm just born with this innate hypersensitivity to these little flying bodies of evil. Everything about them makes me violent: the sound of them flying, the audacity of these little sh*ts to land right on your forehead while you sleep, the way they spit everytime they land, the way they freaking rub their little hands together as if these little bodies are engaged in the innocent act of prayer...

Let me introduce you to what I call "The Solution".

1500 volts of pure fly roasting power.

This is seriously my favorite device in the entire house. Nothing's better than the sweet smell of toasted insects. Don't EFF with this swatter-wielding geisha. Don't. EFF. With. This.


NUMBER TWO: Douchebags that think it's cool to be heartless and cruel. We ain't in high school anymore, turdwads (Bonus term). Example: My friends and I were walking out of the Camden Yards after a baseball game and we had made friends with the group that had been sitting next to us. We had agreed to go out for drinks and were trekking back to the main strip together. A homeless woman was sitting on the side of the street with a little cup full of coins asking all the leaving fans to spare her some change. THE DOUCHEBAG OF THE CENTURY we were walking with ran up to were the woman was sitting and KICKED her change cup and sent it catapulting down the street. Her coins flew every direction and the woman was visibly distraught. I had never witnessed such douchebaggery in my entire life and neither had many others who witnessed this unprovoked and entirely uncalled for behavior and my friends and I quickly helped the woman collect her coins. Some of the witnesses actually began confronting the douchebag and I was ready to give this dude a swift kick to the scrotum. Needless to say, we ditched that group and the incident pretty much ruined my mood for the night. Seriously. I would have had no problem castrating this dude and hanging his testicles up on a pole for birds to eat. Seriously.


NUMBER THREE: A certain someone in my Accelerated Program who I am CONVINCED is a human robot programmed to annoy people with his condescending monotonous voice and his inability to control his gaping mouth syndrome. EVERYTHING that comes out of this lame-o's mouth has to be sarcastic or "witty" at another person's expense. He's a nerd-douchebag combo. I know. They exist. And he's in my tiny 35 person program.

He looks like this all day:



Makes my eye twitch.

Remember this awesome scene from "American Psycho?" Yeah. Exactly. I replay this in my head everytime he opens his gapey little mouth and says something snotty. It really helps.






Andddddd.... I think that's enough rage thought for today. So as long as my baybuh keeps the Off-candle lit and the douchebags away from the tip of my chainsaw, I think we'll have a beautiful, peaceful relationship. :)

Textbook picture of sanity.

What makes you tick?