2 June. I was in a KFC drivethru earlier today. I was ravenous. I have a tenth of my original stomach because Johnson and Johnson reduce governments to wholly-owned subsidiaries with the mad dividends from the shit drugs they push, with their catastrophic side effects. If I eat coffee for breakfast, as I often do, I get caught out later. #oncewasstaypuft #historyof*puffscheeks*
When I get ravenous I’m legitimately in pain. When Wall St shits the bed I’m fucked because I won’t be able to have small regular meals for very long. Assuming I even make it that far, which may not even be that far away hey campers. Anyway I was in pain in the drive thru and I lashed out verbally because I was frustrated. I am for sure the worst person sometimes.
I was loud enough that the cashier heard me. She gave me the eyeballing I deserved. She looked hurt. I realised I was being a complete arsewipe. I felt deeply ashamed and diminished.
So yeah, next screed will need to be about these longstanding anger management issues; imagine if anyone not so encumbered ever knew enough about you, cared about you enough or had faith in your ability to self-correct enough to intervene in a way that was decisively constructive anytime prior. And yeah it’s going to include how manipulative arsewipes use the reactions they get pouring salt on raw wounds to problematise reactions to disrespect and abuses of their own also. Add some weight to the stress disorder pile and then advise the freakshow to get their head examined when having salt poured on raw wounds means they don’t just crawl away to die silently in a ditch where no one who matters need be disturbed etc. I have one book on the topic of scapegoating already hey.
To that young worker I offer a heartfelt apology for being abusive, and doing harm with words, because words hurt. I commit to doing something about it.
To the judgmental, everyone fucks up. Not everyone can admit everyone fucks up. Some of us shit sunbeams hey. Some of us could melt the polar ice caps with the amount of sunlight that blitzkriegs out of our arses. ‘If you doubt my judgment, you’re crazy and a bad person and a willing slave of evil and you hate fun and cats. I personally have the hotline to the Almighty. No you can’t borrow it. No I will not pass on questions. Who wants to fucking touch me *Eric Cartman voice*’ can go on
PS I don’t enjoy eating at all really anymore for the record.
