Anyway, I'm getting white boy wasted (sorry, it's hard to distinguish what's racist and what's not when you're drunk. I get it now, Charlie Sheen) all by my fucking self because my "husband" decided that it would be more fun for him to get wasted with his friends/brothers/all the cops in any major city EVER than to commiserate with his wife at home over the fact that BOTH of our teenagers are failing classes. Fuck'em. Fuck him. Fuck all their asses.
Okay, I'll admit I'm a borderline alki, but before 8:30 PM (bedtime for my youngest two), I'm fucking Supermom. I don't even think about Jose (Cuervo) before then because that's just how fucking awesome a mom I am. I delay my
I started this blog because I was PMSing and didn't feel like fucking being nice and shit like I do on my other blog. That was the goddamn point. So, tonight is a bad night. It's a PMS night. It's a PMDD night. Which is why I needed the alcohol. Truth be told, it started last night, but that's neither here nor there.
I can't really remember what the point is, exactly. That's the price you pay after your fifth lemon drop, but I DO fucking remember that my husband is an asshole. That's right. I said it! You're an asshole, sweetheart.
He is the kind of person that likes to have the whole world thinking that everything is peachy when, in fact, it's quite shitty. That's why I'm posting this. Why the fuck should I be the only pissed off bitch in this relationship tonight? Rut roh, Shaggy! The world now knows that you're not perfect. How will you ever survive?
You know? I couldn't possibly give less of a fuck than I do right now. Maybe you'll still love my psycho ass tomorrow, maybe you won't. Right now, guess what?
I don't give a fuck.
What's that I spy? An empty shot glass? That's not right.
See ya when I see ya!