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Saturday. 12.31.05 7:27 am
that fucking bitch makes me so fucking angry.
all she does is bitch about this.
bitch about that.
bitch about something else.
she never has a fucking positive thing to say, at all, ever, about anyone, unless its the rare "oh, it looks like youve lost a few pounds".
because weight is what makes or breaks a person, everyone knows that.
weight is the big judge of character, so she calls us fucking FAT all the god damned time.
WERE not the ones eating everything that the doctor's said we shouldnt, and then saying that the fucking clients ate it, and then throwing it back up in a fucking waste basket in the damn corner.
bitch has me so fucking angry i cant even go back to sleep.
i really dislike her.
i mean, i come home, and she begins instantly bitchign about how i need to do this
and i need to do that.
because we all know that im home year round
and im the one making all the messes
bringing fucking boxes of shit into the damn house.
but its my job to clean them up and sort through them, because i know what everyone does when im away at school. sure, i know that someones worn this the past few days.
sure, i know why the fuck theres this random box of papers and shit lying around the house.
sure, i let the house get into such a state of disarray because im so busy trying to get a fucking education (which isnt worth shit, a crack habit would be more worthwhile, im sure)
i mean, she works all the time. but its not because were poor. she works all the time because she can.
no one tells her to work all the fucking time, and then come home and BITCH that nothing's been thrown out, because shes at work all the time and god forbid she STOP WORKING (oh my god) to lift a finger around the damn house.
the ceilings got a leak in it. its worn all the way through the damn ceiling.
its not her job to do anything about it.
sure, it may be dads house, but last i checked, her name was on the fucking deed as well.
sure, dad might not be doing shit either, because hes too busy smoking (weed and cigs) and sleeping to do anything,
but obviously if your fucking children are living in the damn house,
and its in shambles,
SHOULDNT YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT?
instead of buying a house, letting your crotchety old man of a father live there, boozing it up, inviting strange people to spend long periods of time there, inviting even stranger family (who defaces shit, but oh, its ok) to live there, and fucking harrassing your kids even though its YOUR HOUSE????
and whats this shit about god?
because you work all the time, god is going to clean your house?
god is going to automatically fix EVERYTHING?
if the church can up and wipe out limbo, why should i even begin to believe in something that seems to be manmade? yeah, that makes sense.
damn brainwashing church.
of course, shell come back home, and bitch even more about how she doesnt have a lexus, and how she doesnt have this, and how she doesnt have that, and how she cant wait for me to get out of school.
and how dad hasnt done this, and dad hasnt done that, and how fat my brother and i am, and how ugly and stupid and all sorts of other bullshit that comes out of her fucking mouth.
well, if youre raising children, shouldnt you be doing it TOGETHER?
you know, the whole, making sure everythign is taken care of?
LIKE FUCKING CEILINGS WITH HOLES IN THEM?
and making sure youre not fucking your kids minds up and giving them problems???
granted she shouldnt do it by herself, but damn, stop bitching the fuck about it and DO SOMETHING.
woman has me so damn angry i cant even go back to sleep.
and then she bitches about how i always want to go places.
well shit, if you lived in this fucking house, would you ever want to be home?
i asked her a while ago if i could go to chesterfield on thursday, since she was off that day, and i wanted to look for something. i was just going to go up there, look for it at maybe three places (eb, gamestop, software etc) and come back.
not all sortsa gallivanting like we normally like to do.
but surprise, she gets called by work... even more surprise, she takes it. what the fuck.
so i say fine, ill go tomorrow, since youre off then. fine she says, and we can all go.
of course id rather she not go (backseat driver to the fucking max), but whatever, we can go.
friday, can i go? NO. and then she starts bitching about how i always want to go, and always take her car, never do anything, and blahblahblah (i didnt see her scrubbing the never cleaned bathroom). and then bitches about how im upset with her, because i cant go. NO SHIT! you fucking told me that i could go THURSDAY. but then when you "suddenly" had to go work (so you could bitch about having to had worked 7 nights in a row, and how far it was, but then ended up taking the damn job regularly anyway), i didnt complain. fine i said, can we go tomorrow? and you said YES. dont get bitchy with me because you cant keep your word.
then she bitches that we never clean it out, because what? its her car, and has HER shit in it. if it were my shit, id clean it out. but i dont know what the fuck to do with her shit.
its like in the house.
you put all this shit in it, and whenever someone touches it to perhaps put it away, or *gasp* take your advice and THROW IT OUT, you bitch like its the end of the world.
maybe theres a reason no one cleans anything, because youll bitch about it.
theres toys on the counter that cobys never played with, you always say get rid of them.
we'll get rid of them, and then youll bitch that we shouldnt have, they might have been worth something one day, blahblahblahblahblahyouresofuckingfatblahblahblah
and then i went out with twyla last night, because i was fucking bored, and tired of sitting in this damn house, and looking for some 18+ fun (no, no wet tshirts or anything like that, just 18+ as in not hanging out with coby. cobys cool and all, but if i wanted to go into a porn shop, id have to leave him outside) i told her we were going to the mall, because, we were. after the mall closed, we went to target, because i needed lip balm, and then to walmart to go gallivanting about.
we got to twylas at 10.30p, and i called home to let them know id gotten back.
the line was busy, so i ate something (oh god, forbidden), and called again around 11.15, figuring mom was busy talking about how fat i was and work with my aunt or someone. the phone and doorbell ring at the same time, its my dad to pick me up to go home. i walk in the house and my mom goes on about how shes disappointed in me or doesnt appreciate what i did.
what the fuck did i do? im 20. i told you i was going with twyla to the mall. sure, the mall closes at 9. we went to target and walmart too. still "the mall". i called you when i got back, the line was BUSY, so i waited.
if you wanted me to be home by a certain time, you should have fucking told me instead of waiting until i got home to bitch at me.
well, i tried calling, and the line was busy. i was going to let you know i was going to sit over there for a bit, and was getting ready to leave as it was.
on a good note (which becomes a bad note), i got two awesome new bras. that FIT!!! they cost 64 bucks a pop... i made ma pay for one of them, since shes always bitching about me not having good bras, but yet will neither take me to get them, nor let me go get them on my own (i wear huge bras, so i usually have to go to a creepy boutique to get ugly old things, but these were awesome and from dillards! i wore one of them out of the store, it was that awesome. i think i scared the sales lady with my hootin and hollerin, though). when i *gasp* get her to go, she bitches about how expensive they are, and blahblahblah, and how i need to wear this one, because its a minimizer, and blahblahblah, im fat so i dont need to have breasts, and all sorts of other bullshit.
now isntead of being glad that my breasts arent hanging and going ::makes the olympic drums sound, waits for horns to start:: shell bitch that theyre too high, and draw too much attention to themselves.
well im sorry that my breasts are large. theyre mine, and i like them. (creepy people like them too, and i dont remember that guys number, but he was creepy anyway)
im sorry that you dont even own your own clothes, because youre too busy wearing other peoples clothes and old things. your bras would be expensive too if you wore the right one.
i mean, shit. she dresses like a fucking bum. shes always dressed like a fucking bum.
what the hell? if you work so damn much, cant you at least buy yourself some clothes so you dont have to wear the same thing every fucking day? what the hell.
its not like she buys us any and everything we want, so its not like she can even bitch that all of her money is being spent on us.
i can understand being frugal? but shit, she's ridiculous. she can afford things for herself. that fit. instead of BITCHING when someone gives her a nice xmas gift, because she thinks its too small, when in fact i would probably look really nice on her.
she pays tuition and books (sometimes ill pay half on books), and the occasional necessity. thats maybe a months pay (per semester), max, and shes in the clear every other month that tuition isnt much of a matter.
but yet she bitches about it.
if its that much of a problem, i will fucking drop out of school and become a crack whore.
though it probably wont save you money in the long run.
then she bitches about how awful granma was to her, calling her fat and outsided and dressing her in "fat" clothes... but yet she doesnt want to do the same to me.
stupid bitch, i would venture to say im one of the most fucked up people i know, thanks to her.
thanks cunt, ive got an uhealthy fear of the opposite sex.
thanks cunt, ive got self esteem in the gutter.
thanks cunt, im properly depressed, bitchy, and all sorts of other things, because i hate myself.
thanks for fucking up my life. i hate you for bringing me into it, i hate you for making it hell. because its sad when youve upset your child so much that she wants to KILL HERSELF when shes fucking FIVE.
its such an awful thing to say, because i abhor hating people, but i cant stand her.
and thats sad, because shes my own fucking mother. she wonders why we all ignore her, its because she bitches all the fucking time, no matter what.
im still trying to figure out why the fuck her and dad had kids, they really dont need nor deserve them.
bitch never has anything good to say about anyone, and is always too busy bitching.
dad is always too busy fucking smoking and coughing up shit.
neither of them get anything done.
im 20, i should move out. maybe ill adopt cobycup so he doesnt have to put up with the shit.
but i need a place to store my shit until i graduate.
I really feel for ya missus. Yer mum sounds a bit messed up. Somewhere deep inside, she is doing all this out of love for you, but she's making a bad job of showing it thus far! You need a break from her ...
» Amsterdam Al (18.104.22.168) on 2006-01-13 06:32:20
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