December 3, 2009

A big ol' can of crazy.

Hey everyone.
And by everyone, I mean my two viewers.

Haven't had anything to write about in a few days.
And just today I thought to myself;

Me:: Fuck. I haven't nothing to blog about. No fail stories. Nothing. This sucks.

And then, something happened.

You remember the slagwhore, right?

Viewer:: You mean your mother?
Me:: That's what I said. Slagwhore.

Here's how the last conversation I HAD with her went.

Slagwhore:: Hey! I got a new cell phone and number!
Me:: ... Okay? Why are you telling me?
Slagwhore:: So you could save this number in your phone.
Me:: I didn't have your last number saved in my phone.
Me:: What makes you think I would save this one, too?
Slagwhore:: You're silly. I'll talk to you later, okay?
Me:: Furthermore, how the hell did you get this number?
Slagwhore:: Bye!

Yeah. Not shitting you.

So I get a text today from my sister.

Sister:: Mom found your new school.
Me:: Dear what's his face in heaven. How?
Sister:: Called your last school and requested your transfer information.
Me:: I thought dad put her on the "THIS WOMAN IS BATSHIT CRAZY, DON'T TELL HER ANYTHING" list?
Sister:: He did. They're stupid. You know that.
Me:: Right. Go on.
Sister:: So she called the school they said they think you're transferring to.
Me:: God help them.
Sister:: And she said they told her you were a student there.
Me:: But... I'm not enrolled there yet. I haven't turned in the forms!
Sister:: Maybe she was bullshitting me. I don't know. Just be careful.
Me:: Gods help me.

So yeah.
My mother isn't allowed that information from my school.
The divorce that occurred when I was 5 saw to that.

So my dad hears this and is livid.
Granted he's the main reason why I moved out...
I can still sympathize with the man.

Now, what do you think your adorable, sweet, loving blogger would do at this point?

That's right.

I IMed the bitch.

She was offline though, to the satisfaction of insulting her and then promptly logging off would not be given to me.
Still, I was nice and polite in the message.

Me:: So I heard you're trying to find me.
::The Slagwhore is offline. It will receive your messages when it logs back in.::
Me:: A likely story.
Me:: Piece of advice? Don't.
Me:: I can understand you wanting to keep tabs on me, but this is borderline stalker-ish.
Me:: I know, I know. "I'm your mother, I should know these things, I haven't spoken to you in a year" blah blah blah.
Me:: But you contacted my school and requested information you have no right to have.
Me:: Or do you not remember the court system raping your ass in that custody battle?
Me:: If I were you, I wouldn't be able to forget the humiliation and pain and torment.
Me:: Oh wait, I was there. And even though I was 5 and had no idea what they were talking about, I still found it funny.
Me:: Like the time you were attacked by that dog.
Me:: Didn't know why it was attacking you, but I laughed my ass off all the same.
Me:: Anyways, back to my original point. What was it again? Oh yeah...
Me:: kthnxbai

So my boyfriend is a giggling mess while I'm leaving her this message.

He says it was because the look in my eyes was hilarious.

I think it was because I was screaming, "Take this, and that, and some of this!" at my computer screen while I typed.

Who knows.

But yeah.

I'd rather go up against the fucking Rancor than have to deal with this shit.

don't know what a rancor is?

... anybody?


You fail.


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