Psycho Babble

New Vocabulary Word:

Fucknugget! LOL! I don't even need to know the definition! I discovered this word in a book by Paul Levine: The Deep Blue Alibi. LMAO!

...just thought I'd share that little gem with y'all... : D

Bitches & Blogs

So, I was going to write about how my ghost-writer annoyed me in the last posting of this blog (duh, because she’s supposed to be a ‘ghost’ - You know, heard but not seen…writing FOR ME, not ABOUT HER!) The agreement is I send her audio tapes or emails of my drivel, and she’s supposed to write it/post it verbatim. Well, obviously, she screwed that up by blatantly announcing her existence to y’all! This is not good for my image as a single, spunky, virtual female who has her act totally together at all-most times! Anyhoo, I’m not going to write about that particular pisser today (yes, ME! I’m writing this myself! I fired her ass for insubordination and turf-trampling!) because it’s just ugly business you don’t need to know anything about!

So…let us begin anew…

Molotov has broken my heart. Yes, I’m as surprised as you are that this is even possible. Evidently, until someone breaks our heart we many times are not aware that they have it in their possession…especially if it’s a seriously introverted Havana bad-ass who kidnaps innocent females, carry’s unconcealed weaponry, speaks in broken English, and who sweats far, far too much! I am appalled (yet strangely fascinated) by my own taste in men!

Allow me to give you some background noise on where all this emotional crapola began:

Somewhere between the flooding of my suite with toilet water, and my last post (the post written by that ungrateful winch from hell…) Molotov and I started following each others blogs. Yes, Molotov is a blogger. He’s actually terribly amusing when he’s not being himself or trying to kill unsuspecting persons of various dark and creepy backgrounds. Anyway, the blog entertainment went from funny, to me getting jealous and insecure (I know, it’s almost impossible to visualize me being insecure! You can imagine what a shock it is to me as well! I’m traumatized by this newly revealed virtual weakness of my virtual character!)

What caused this upset? Molotov has started writing about other women in his blog…his ‘appreciation’ of other women. He didn’t mention me in his long list of women he worships. I didn’t know I wanted him to mention me…until he didn’t. So, as any other woman would do, I went kinda totally ape-shit. He of course (being of the male species where all things of the moment are the only thing they are aware of), is too stupid to know that I’m not crazy just because I’m throwing a spectacular fit!

Which reminds me, I simply MUST write a post about the benefits and enjoyment of: PMS – Ladies [and meatheads], it ain’t a ‘syndrome’…it’s an outlet for all the bullshit we unceasingly endure for three to four solid weeks at a spin! We ain’t making this shit up due to hormones – Hell no! If it weren’t for the damned hormones forcing us to react to our own emotional state and solid, rational concerns…we’d implode like a…well, like I don’t know what, but it wouldn’t be pretty, and the world would never change and grow (which is precisely what we’re bitching about in the first place you freaking idiots!)  PMS Power! Go Yo-Bitches!

At any rate, Molotov and I are at awkward odds at the moment. He broke my heart. I broke his. He broke mine again by deleting me as a blog follower (I believe he took it upon himself to determine what my thoughts about this were - Big mistake dear Molotov! Grrrrr!). I may be in the middle of breaking his again because I emailed him about his deleting me. I asked him if he wanted to delete me in real life too. He hasn’t answered…

(yes, I could say it all right to his face, but I just don’t want to risk seeing his potential facial reaction, or lack thereof, @ my inquiry(s). Nor do I wish to go ape-shit again for at least another week or two – it’s exhausting and drains me of my Vitamin B complexes, not to mention the ever important C!)

So…it all makes me wonder:

…if I fell into shark infested waters, would he try to save me (or at least seriously consider doing so)?

…if I went on and on about how handsome, smart, and sexy I found some other man/men to be, would it bother him? Would it hurt him? Would he just blow it off if it did hurt him?

…if I never joked with him again, or called him a shitty name, would he miss that? Me?

…if I never affectionately swatted him, would he long for that good-natured abuse only I deliver (using a most delicate rpm/mph ratio I refined and mastered years ago) ?

…and…will this man have the courage and intelligence to tell me his thoughts, fears, and feelings? Or will he just keep it all to himself because that’s the only life…the only way…he’s ever known?

I sure hope the butthead isn’t that ‘strong’, or he’ll end up lonely his whole life (I don’t think I could bare that)

I can’t fix this. Just like you, I have to wait to see what unravels (and I am NOT going to let my ex-ghost writer effect the outcome of this! The hag is banned from the blog!)

Later, my little yo-peeps!