Up yours, Today. How dare you follow yesterday: the day I lost my first patient under anesthesia and practically broke down to pre-medicated levels of uncool; the day that broke through Zoloft, a Xanax, a Painkiller cocktail, a Banana Daiquiri, and herb to leave me emotionally, mentally, and physically in a coma until 6:30 am.
I awoke determined to start a new day prepared to face a busy schedule head-on by arriving 15 minutes early to work. I'd even forgotten that I needed to fill up on gas before heading in, and had extra time to do so. I laughed at my quirky radio show, and like any day, ate my McD nast and drank my massive coke.
Oh, but you were a tease, Today. You let me feel the quiet before the storm and tricked me into a false sense of calm.
Two surgical procedures, two drop-off lab profiles, a full tech appointment and Dr. appointment schedule, and an emergency hit me like a cow in a tornado; not to mention the euthanasia as the first appointment and incidental procedures like sedation and cat enemas and surprise additional pets and no break, not even to pee when I'm on my period. And I lost it. You won, Today. I got sucked into the tornado and it spit me out the other side looking like stewed tomatoes.
So up yours, Today. I end you with a spite cocktail, hopelessness and meatballs on my spaghetti, to be chased by more liquor. And I get to go back to this tomorrow, you ass cannon. Up yours with a bowling ball.
(3 hours later)
*Oh, I stand corrected. You got the last laugh by killing my Nana, you sick fuck, in a most horrid fashion. Well, touche. I hope the tornado you sent my way drives a 3' rough wooden dildo at high speed into your ass.*
Friday, March 30, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Up yours, people with 2+ children
Up yours, people with more than two kids. In fact, up yours if you have more than one. What gives you the right to drain our resources for your superfluous spawn? Is it a right-to-life issue? At what point to we stop calling life a miracle? How about at 6 billion miracles? And really, how hard is it to use a condom? If you're having trouble figuring it out, chicks, here's a helpful demonstration by Mr. Garrison:
Guy won't wear them? Use any of the 3,000 other forms of birth control. Stuck in a bar bathroom about to do the nasty on that pube-laden, vomit-encrusted floor, and the condom vending machine is out? I've got just the solution for you: in a pinch, use a Dos Equis bottlecap for a diaphragm. Not only is it cheap, accessible, and effective, it might just be painful enough to help you decide not to be such a whore in the first place. It's the birth control of choice of the most interesting man in the world.
Or you could be logical and recognize that after fucking up once on parenting your first child, a do-over is not going to change how much you suck. But logic isn't a contender against your baby-mama hormones, screaming at you to BREED. That's why we have oral contraceptives - cheat your body into thinking you're already pregnant, and logic will suddenly reappear in your brain. Then, logically, you'll realize that all your friends with eight million kids are 100% more miserable than you and thank yourself for being sane and doing the right thing.
Single children are more motivated, better adjusted, excel in school, and grow without the stress of contending for their parents' love. Siblings fight, they're twice the expense, and often resent each other. Is it fair to subject your child to such abuse? And, really, is it fair to you? And don't give me the "kids need brothers and sisters" crap. I've hated my sister since the day she was born for no good reason other than she was BORN. So suck on that, asshole.
Moral of the story: stop being such a tramp and stick with one kid. It's more than enough for anyone to handle, and everyone's better off for it.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
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