Around here under the Big Top I am often accused of dropping the f-bomb a little bit too much…because I do. Actually I have improved, as in I don’t use it as much as I used to. No, really. It’s true. But I am a work in progress. I will confess I dropped it a few times this week…this evening even when I had to ask two of my clowns to clean their bathroom for the third time today and I was greeted with heavy sighs and eye rolls. Go ahead and judge me. But you have to know what I was nourished on all of my life…so much toxic awesomeness that how could I not believe that the f-bomb is the perfect adjective to be used in every sentence like say, the way Brittany Spears uses “amazing”?
Don’t believe me?
Allow me to share some of the toxic awesomeness that is mine all mine and bestowed, dumped, vomited into my voice mail box just today.
I am so blessed!
Hey, I don’t play around when I’m talkin’ on the phone. I’m not like tryin’ to do anything like that and you coulda identified yourself…and I luv you and all that and I’m sayin I don’t like bein’ jerked around I never have and I won’t stand for it and that’s what you’re doin’ to me. Sorry you’re havin’ a bad day and that’s all ya know. Ya know you’re gonna sit there for five minutes and ya know jerk me around ya know. All right, I luv you and I don’t play fuckin’ games. I just hope you know that. I’ve known you all my life and you’ve known me all my life actually. You know. I’m sorry. Hope you’re day turns out better but I don’t put up with bullshit like that. I don’t like using the phone to begin with. All right. I luv you goodbye.
I had to respond because, WTF? Right? So I did…by text because I can’t talk to my family when any of them are like this. I aced Argument back in the day as a student but that was civil, intelligent exchanging of differing opinions. No, when any of my family launch stuff like this I learned to duck and cover because if I didn’t it got violently physical very quickly. Let’s just say that I am very good at ducking and covering.
Hey, I don’t need this big long explanation because you were jackin’ me off. But whatever. That’s irregardless. What sort of help do you think Valerie needs? You get information off of her stupid daughter who knows nothing about this planet and is going to sit there and judge her mom? You know. Hey! If you wanna help, if you really want to be this, this CHRISTIAN you supposedly are, you wanna help? You help your fuckin’ sister cuz she got fuckin’ takin it in the fuckin’ jaw from everybody and she ain’t doing nuthin fuckin’ wrong not like her cunt fuckin’ daughter says. You’re fuckin’ sister got fucked over by some assholes…and she ain’t got fuckin’ no one and I come off the road to try and help her and if you want to help her you’ll get on the fuckin’ computer and find her a fuckin’ place to live around here where she can have her fuckin’ dog where she lives near somethin’ you know, Miss Fuckin’ Cunt Christian! I don’t need your fuckin’ 800 word essay on why you weren’t wastin’ my time because you fuckin’ were. And you fuckin’ know it. Hey, I don’t need this bullshit. Like I told Mom, I’m tryin’ to help my fuckin’ sister. Mom’s busy judging her. So is her fucking dumb, stupid, dumb daughter who knows nuthin’ ’bout planet Earth. Let me reiterate that. And fuckin’ A, I don’t see you tryin’ to help no one. I don’t see anyone tryin’ to help but me. I don’t see anyone in this family tryin’ to help anyone but me. So hey, go ahead and try to go to church on Sunday like you do every fuckin’ week. Yeah, Miss Fuckin Christian. Fuckin A, your sister is more of a Christian than you…luv ya! Bye!
Don’t you just love how I am assured that I am loved? Yeah, me too. The 800 word essay was the text message I sent. For it to be 800 words, considering the rate I text one would receive it in time for the next Presidential Inauguration. Don’t believe me? Ask my kids. Meanwhile, I’m thinking it is a very good thing that my niece was raised by her paternal grandparents considering how her Uncle thinks of her as highly as he thinks of me. What a lucky girl! I might be a “fuckin’ cunt Christian asshole” but apparently I am a fuckin’ cunt. Christian asshole who has a lot of power because I can apparently get my sister secure into a home in Pennsylvania with her little dog too from the comfort of my laptop here in California. I could help my sister. I should help my sister. But there really is only so much help one can do for an addict…an addict who would actually steal her dying father’s oxycontin. yeah, I being a little bit judgmental but for the record, I haven’t been in church for a very long time. Maybe she is more of a Christian than me. Unfortunately, the toxic Springer side of my family really doesn’t know me very well at all or they might know why I don’t go to church anymore.
But then again some of them do like to cyber-stalk me.
Hey, for your information I was not drunk, asshole and the only reason I freaked out and yelled is because you were jackin’ me off and you know it. You let me talk for three fuckin’ minutes and ask questions. You were fuckin’ jackin’ me off you fuckin’ queer. Go ahead on your Facebook, you’re a fuckin’ simple-minded fuckin’ idiot like all the other idiots who are gonna get taken in by the fuckin’ Douche-bag when He gets here to rapture your ass outta here. You’re a fuckin dumb ass, you fuckin’ queer. Don’t ever talk to me again. Hey, you two-faced fuckin’ asshole, yeah like the way you treated mom, no wonder Randy fuckin’ hated you, you fuckin asshole. Go face your shit on Facebook you fuckin’ queer. Goodbye.
How else could they know that I am nothing but a simple-minded, fuckin’, asshole queer…even if I am very much a heterosexual woman who LOVES men! But they would know this since they seem to know what I might be posting on Facebook. There is much that can be wrong with Facebook. I read about it often in letters sent to me with very thoughtful, compelling arguments against it and other dangerous social media. But Facebook is the mark of the Anti-Christ? Who knew? Right? well I’m pretty sure that the Anti-Christ isn’t going to be rapturing my ass and all my Facebook friends out of here. At least that is not how I read it in Revelation. But at least I am comforted knowing that we aren’t ever going to be speaking to each other again…especially after that low blow telling me that our dead brother hated me because I was the only one who was with him when he was dying and begging for me to find you all and I was the only one who would so willingly, without even hesitating offer him a portion of my liver because I was the only one healthy enough to offer him such a gift…thank you for that…at least I’m not going to be calling.
Hey, just to clarify, you seem to think I’m some kind of drunken fuckin’ asshole or somethin’. But I just have a low fuckin’ tolerance for fuckin’ ignorance and that’s what you fuckin’ gave me. So hey, go play on your little Facebook and all that shit. An ignorant, mother-fucker like you would do somethin’ fuckin’ like that. You’re a fuckin’ weirdo. You’re a fuckin’ idiot. . Luv ya. Goodbye.
Yeah. There is always more toxic hate to be shared because I really, really need to understand that I AM THE FUCKIN’ IGNORANT IDIOT WEIRDO. But, hey, I am still loved. Lucky, lucky me.
Boys and girls, this is the toxic swill from which I crawled out of kind of like that rogue managing to evolve just a little bit and crawl out of the primordial, dysfunctional, toxic ooze the rest of the family seems so content to swim around in. I know that I am not perfect, not at all. I have the lifetime of damage from people whom I share DNA with to thank for a lot of what is horribly wrong with me. Just imagine those four tirades every day of your life throughout your childhood, every waking moment of every day and stir in a lot more…so much more.
This is me.
You created me.
You all should be so proud.
Now forgive me while I give thanks that you are not an everyday part of my life and (THANK GOD) not a part of my circus family’s life.