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Friday, February 15, 2013

Enumerate Your Fortunes.

I swear on everything that is holy, it is taking every bit of wherewithal that I have in my dark soul to keep from punching OMG girl right in the eye.

I started today in a really great mood.  My Valentine’s Day, unexpectedly, turned out to be GREAT.

So, I come in to work with a cheery disposition.

The morning passes, we are laughing and joking, it’s a good day at the office.

Talk turns to current music and if music from our particular eras will be played over the sound system when we are in nursing homes.

“And a fat ass J, some bubonic chronic, it made me choke”

So OMG girl says “And what about all the saggy tattoos hehehehehe.”

I say nothing, biting my tongue.  The comment was OBVIOUSLY directed at me as I’m the only tattooed person in the office.

Then, she has the audacity to get up out of her cube, walk back to my desk and say “Do you ever think about what that koi is going to look like when you’re old?  And sleeves? Geez.”

When it’s right in my face, I can’t NOT respond.

“If I didn’t have any tattoos, I wouldn’t spend any fucking time worrying about it.” That was verbatim.

I followed that with my best “go fuck yourself” look.

I never say to her “Do you ever worry about what your unfortunate dental situation is going to look like as you get older?”

NEVER.  Even though I’ve, obviously, thought about it.  I don’t need to do that shit to feel good about myself.  I only do those things when attacked. Normally I’m as docile as a house cat… purring and content.

And do I honestly give a flying fuck what my tattoos will look like when I’m exiled to a nursing home?

Uuuuummmm hell no.

If I live that long, and I’ve always felt like I wouldn’t live to a ripe old age, I’ll just be happy to be alive, or unhappy depending on the situation.
I think this is beautiful.

Why do people have to be such huge assholes?

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