Wednesday, September 15, 2004
When ‘sex’ on a license plate goes horribly wrong
Long day -- lots of stories. But I'm going to go watch Oprah, so I'll be right back.
Sorry about that; I'd started watching the interview with Lori Hacking's mom, Thelma Soares, this morning, but between phone calls and blog reading, I didn't get to hear all of it. What a rotten mess, though, man. And what an admirable frame of mind Mrs. Soares has so soon after it all happened. (If y'all didn't see it, she basically said that although she's heard that the murdering pigfucker is allegedly supposed to be pleading guilty, she'll be all right if he doesn't, because once God gets a hold of his sorry ass, she won't have to do anything.) It's not that she isn't hurting tremendously, but to achieve that kind of peace so early is remarkable, at least to me. I mean, if it were me? I don't even know what would be coming out of my mouth or rotting in my melon.
Which brings me to my pseudo-zenlike state about my asshole hackers/the fucked-up part of my bio-fam, though the two are mutually exclusive for the time being. (Yeahyeahyeah, cheesy segue. I know. Work with me, here, though, because I'm actually about to articulate something resembling my feelings.)
See, now I'm all about the revenge, and I can revel in it and wallow in it with the best of them. In fact, my most favorite revenge tactic, though it wasn't my idea? Epoxying a big gnarly dildo to someone's license plate or front plate. (Think about it: It's not like your license plate is the first thing you look at when you get in your car in the morning, right? You could drive for MILES without knowing you have a big gnarly dildo sticking off your car. And then there's the whole agony of going to the BMV to get a new plate because, well, you have a big gnarly dildo on your plate, not to mention the fact that you have to shell out the dough for said plate. It's absolute brilliance, I tell you. And wasting the $30, $40 on the dildo wouldn't even matter.) I've never exacted it on anyone, however, tempting and funny though it may be. Not because I'm a puss, but because making someone's life miserable doesn't make my life better in any way, shape or form. Hell YEAH, that would be hysterical, and I'd likely laugh and pat myself on the back for my brilliance. And then, proud of myself, I'd tell one too many people, and then it would get back to Ol' Sexy Plate, and then I'd be screwed. But even more than that? I'd get a laugh for maybe a day or two, but then I'd still be pissed off, and then what? Do I keep exacting revenge? Because that gets old really quick, not to mention that's how stalkers are born.
Anyway, I guess my point is that no matter how much revenge I want to take out on someone (rhetorically), I still gotta wake up with my big ass, so why not spend the time dealing with my shit instead of acting like a 19 year-old embittered about her first love?Oh, whatEVER.
Which brings me to my pseudo-zenlike state about my asshole hackers/the fucked-up part of my bio-fam, though the two are mutually exclusive for the time being. (Yeahyeahyeah, cheesy segue. I know. Work with me, here, though, because I'm actually about to articulate something resembling my feelings.)
See, now I'm all about the revenge, and I can revel in it and wallow in it with the best of them. In fact, my most favorite revenge tactic, though it wasn't my idea? Epoxying a big gnarly dildo to someone's license plate or front plate. (Think about it: It's not like your license plate is the first thing you look at when you get in your car in the morning, right? You could drive for MILES without knowing you have a big gnarly dildo sticking off your car. And then there's the whole agony of going to the BMV to get a new plate because, well, you have a big gnarly dildo on your plate, not to mention the fact that you have to shell out the dough for said plate. It's absolute brilliance, I tell you. And wasting the $30, $40 on the dildo wouldn't even matter.) I've never exacted it on anyone, however, tempting and funny though it may be. Not because I'm a puss, but because making someone's life miserable doesn't make my life better in any way, shape or form. Hell YEAH, that would be hysterical, and I'd likely laugh and pat myself on the back for my brilliance. And then, proud of myself, I'd tell one too many people, and then it would get back to Ol' Sexy Plate, and then I'd be screwed. But even more than that? I'd get a laugh for maybe a day or two, but then I'd still be pissed off, and then what? Do I keep exacting revenge? Because that gets old really quick, not to mention that's how stalkers are born.
Anyway, I guess my point is that no matter how much revenge I want to take out on someone (rhetorically), I still gotta wake up with my big ass, so why not spend the time dealing with my shit instead of acting like a 19 year-old embittered about her first love?Oh, whatEVER.
Posted by Broad •
F'ed-up family •
Me, I like to buy the BIG box of maxis and peel and stick them all over the passenger side of someone’s car. Cheap, fast, easy, fun. And it DOES make my life better, because laughter is, after all, the best medicine.
hey, just because I’m grown up doesn’t mean I can’t still be immature.