Monday, January 20, 2014

I have more self-control than I ever believed

9/3/2002

Well, I didn't kill the Heinous-White-Tailor-Trash-Bitch from Hell. That alone should merit a fucking award. We are way too fucking exhausted to write the details from today. Maybe after we've had some sleep and Marisa has had a chance to take care of Charlie who is heartbroken after finally having to face washing his hands of the last sick psychotic hateful dregs of his family today.

For the life of me I can't begin to understand how he and Marisa can even keep loving those shit-sucking leeches he's unfortunate enough to have been spawned from.

They always joked about what an evolutionary marvel Charlie is, to be the first of his clan to walk upright and learn to read, or keep his teeth past 30. The sad part is now that he's finally broken the last controlling chains of these sick inbred freaks, they stand in wonder at what gall he has to choose his wife and kids over their bullshit.

There must be something terribly wrong with a man who won't keep his family living in 900 roach infested square feet, or whose wife is the only one in the family not balling someone else's husband while hers is at work. Come to think of it, how dare Charlie have the audacity to not only keep a job for more than 5 years but own his own company on top of it?

How dare he not snort and drink his paycheck or not beat his wife and kids? How dare he not live in squalor? Obviously his daddy didn't raise him right! God, what a crime. He became a decent human being despite his environment. No wonder they hate him now.

No, I don't need to calm down before I write about this.

Stephanie