Where to begin..oh I know, let’s start this shit off with a little something that’s sure to bring more beloved hate mail.
If you have never read my posts (you should) then you don’t know that I have recently made to transition from Virginia to Washington state. I have been off the grid for a while and now I’m back…bum bum buumm.
And I just want to say to all you sexy West Coast gay men who are not the women hating, emo-fuck, I’m gay cause society thinks it’s awesome and I would do anything not to be accepted by doing everything that is acceptable, I <3 every kind of fucking art t-shirt wearing, it’s your fault for making gay babies so I don’t have to take the responsibility for breaking my bitch moms heart…..THANK YOU. You make me happy. For you previously described turds, fuck off. You’re as fake as your sob stories and Elton John is ashamed of you. Ok, maybe he isn’t yet…but one day….
I’m pretty sure this anger is coming from my lack of coffee. I have to admit, and I’m not proud, that I am a recovering coffee addict. I have been sober for one week. I want to cut someone. Someone like the many coffee peddlers you find here. They sit in their little coffee shacks bragging of 100 different flavored shots to dress your coffee up while colorful cardboard cut-out coffee beans are screaming “Coffee Mother Fucker!!” Truth be told I didn’t want to quit but I couldn’t handle the pressure coming from those
crack coffee bitches! Always coming at me with “Do you want an extra shot?….C’omon baby….it’ll be fun” and “Do you want beans or a straw? On the house.” Yo, everyone knows that you do not, ever, borrow from the house. Then you owe the house a favor and Mr.Coffepimp always collects. Always. So I did something despicable and turned rat. Called my mom up and spilled the beans. (Oh and that pun was totally intended).
Not having the java has made me turn to an even darker side…nicotine. Lovely comforting nicotine. My favorite thing to do for years…until Washington state made it damn near impossible. It’s almost ten dollars a pack here! What the junk WA?! How the fuck am I going to give my self a slow awesome after-sex-smoke death if it has that kind of price tag? It’s not like I can cut down on sex damnit. That’s why I got married in the first fucking place. (and because I love my husband for his brains and some other shit)
I assume once my jitters are gone I might actually enjoy this state. It is gorgeous and Seattle has some perks but it’s been a weird couple months.
P.s. This is an extremely disorganized post…my apologizes! (well,not to you fake gays) xoxoxo