The Miraculous Resurrection of a Lying Bitch

A while back I wrote about Chrissie here. Her melodramatic real life death rivaled a chat one but with more plump pomp and circumstance.

I never believed she died. Not. For. One. Second. But others did. Her online friends in her Barbie fuck-world were taken in hook, line, and sinker. They erected (pun intended) a memorial site for Chrissie calling for a cure for breast cancer in her name. They asked for - and got - donations to help fight this nasty disease. It was all done with pure intent. I can't fault them for that.

What I can fault them for is being gullible and damn stupid. Yep. S-T-U-P-I-D. Especially after I told them that not all slags die and go to heaven. Some sit on their fat asses laughing at their 'death well done' second rate one act play. I would say "well played c*nt, well played" but in truth it wasn't. It wasn't even cable-version good. 

So despite my busy world (yes I have one of those lives that chat people only hear and dream about), I recently decided to look Chrissie up. HALLELUIAH! It is a miracle. She is alive and kicking her fat rolls in New Zealand. A whole year after her death, she was at a conference with the very same company she has always worked for. Well golly gee Mayebell, she done come back to life and we can all thank Bubba. 

I contacted G (the ex-friend of Chrissie who originally contacted me because he could smell the shit stink that permeated her whenever she opened her pie hole). I was ever so happy to inform him that Chrissie had crawled her way out of the 6 foot deep death hole to live again.  He was somewhat shocked but extremely grateful that I messaged him. I also gave him the proof he needed to convince those that believed in Chrissie's pseudo demise of her remarkable rebirth; consequently, she never had or died of breast cancer. The irony of the idiots.

He later emailed me and disclosed how hurt Chrissie's friends had been to learn of her deceit. I should think they'd be even more hurt at how fucking naive and trusting they all were with someone they'd never met. Now that would totally be embarrassing.

The Ex Part II

I recently mentioned that the ex is back in town, and we've been talking. The talking is over. I tried. I really did. I wished he would have stayed lost. Some memories are better left in the past and in my case, the dark.

He is very unhappy. His life is in turmoil. I don't wish that on anyone, but there are things I did not need to know - ever. I hope he can be honest with himself one day. Good luck to him. He's going to need it.

He told me that I was the love of his life. Well he isn't mine; he never was. He wasn't even my first true love; I married that man.  

The Ex is Back in Town

A few weeks ago, I was contacted by an ex-boyfriend of mine. We dated in high school, and it ended ugly. Very. Ugly. 

He sent me a facebook request, which took me by surprise. I knew he had moved back into my area and that he had married a woman from my graduating class.We both have two kids (a boy and a girl).  I didn't want a chance meeting with him even though it's been YEARS.

 I did not accept his request right away, but I did message him my condolences. I had heard that his brother had just recently passed away, and I could relate (I lost my brother as well). Then we found out that my daughter and his nephew were good friends, and his nephew always hung out at my house.

So now we're talking. It's kind of weird, and I'm not exactly sure what to expect. We had been best friends after all.  It's one of those "Let bygones be bygones" type deals when you realize that life is too short to hold bitterness inside. But to be completely honest - I still can't stand his mom. :)

Slacker

I am a major slacker.

It's true.

Life has happened. Healing is happening (major surgery), and my plate is full.

Excuses, excuses. I have been gently and justifiably reprimanded by my 1 (one) fan.

I am not worthy.

I will update. I. Will. Damnit.

A Unique Talent

Me: Is that bug on the inside or outside of the windshield?

Him: It's on the inside. Use your finger and squish it.

Me: I'd rather not. Hand me that piece of paper in the visor. 

Him: No, it's a coupon for a restaurant.  Use one of the million napkins you have hidden in your car      somewhere.

Me: Just hand me that stupid paper.

He hands it over. I gently scoop the bug up on the paper, roll down my window and it flies safely away on the breeze.

Me: See? That takes some skills. I definitely got me some awesome bug skills.

Him: Yes, but you could use some extra classes in spider skills.

Me: Shut up.

Bitch & Moan at the Buffet

Eating at a buffet style restaurant is not my first choice, but last night we made an exception because I was given two free meals from a student for teacher appreciation week. Free food is free food.

There was a woman - I think it was a woman.  It was honestly hard to tell - who started griping about the scones.  She carried on quite loudly about how the scones weren't in fact scones by her definition.

She sniffs, "I've eaten at the Bellagio (hotel and casino in Las Vegas), and they know scones. You really should name these fry bread or pastry puffs. In fact, the English would be quite offended by you calling these scones (I think the English would be more offended by this woman if the truth be known).  No I'm serious, they'd be really offended." 

She was so annoying and patronizing to the manager, that I was hoping she'd catch my eye so I could flip her the bird.  After this tirade, I thought we had a reprieve from her bitching.  Alas, I was wrong.

There was a chocolate fountain in the dessert section.  One could grab a skewer and spear a strawberry, marshmallow, or a half dozen other goodies to drizzle in chocolate.  I decided to get a couple of strawberries.  To my chagrin, the woman beat me to it, but oh ho ho she was too busy bitching about the wooden skewers to actually enjoy the fountain.  She was rubbing the ever lovin' crap out of them saying to the manager who was walking by, "I got 3 slivers from 3 of these. I can't believe you're using these.  (She continues to rub ferociously.)  Ouch, I just got another sliver."

I calmly grabbed 2 skewers, stabbed them into a couple of strawberries (it was the strawberries or her eyes), and dunked them under the fountain of flowing chocolate.  I gave the woman a disgusted look and walked away.

I passed the manager on the way back to my seat, and I announced, "I for one have no problem with these sticks.  I am using them properly by not trying to exfoliate my skin with them."

He started laughing then turned all serious and said, "I am trying to hold my tongue but that woman is trying my patience."

I asked, "Is it indeed a woman then?" 

He replied, "I'm not too sure, but I called it ma'am, and it didn't protest."  We both laughed, and I continued to my seat.

While I was nibbling on a chocolate covered strawberry, I saw the manager approach the seated, bitchy woman and refund her the money she paid for her meal.  I saw her desperately trying to hold back her grin of triumph.  It was a poor attempt to be sure.  He said, "I'm sorry you're not satisfied with our service."

She crowed quite loudly, "Well it's not a bad place, and since I got a refund I may come back again." WTF?  I mean seriously WTFF?

Now I'm not sure about other people, but if I find a place second rate I sure as hell don't continue eating there and I most certainly will not return for another meal.  The woman continued to eat, and eat, and eat  - stuffing her face with relish. She was still eating when we left.

It seemed the food was perfect now that she didn't have to pay for it. In other words, she won. Her bitching paid off; she accomplished her goal. 

When we were leaving, we passed the manager, and I said very loudly, "I should leave you our name and number just in case that annoying woman tries to make a court case out of eating here and I can testify that she was a grade A bitch. She is a very unhappy, negative person who manipulates to get her own way. She damn near ruined my own appetite but fortunately for me I didn't have to look at her the whole time."  I heard the manager's laugh as we exited, and I felt the bitch's eyes on me all the way back to my vehicle.

Take that, bitch.

Public Flatulence Safety

I'm just going to say it outright.

There are times that I'm walking in a public place e.g. store, etc. and I KNOW I just walked through someone's fart. It's like an invisible poison vapor that hangs there ready to trap an unsuspecting, innocent bystander. Like tonight, hubby and I were walking in Barns and Noble behind a crowd of people, when I turned to him and said, "Ewww, I just walked through someone's fart." It was choking.

I really wish that fart mist would change colors in the air (think of that pee dye used in swimming pools) so if we walk around a corner in a store, we could AVOID THAT GREEN FART CLOUD.

Yeah, I know it's natural and everybody does it, but coming upon some random stranger's essence of butt haze is hazardous to my health, I swear.

I am grossed out.