Epiphany #5,820,986,856

Unless you're peddling something, trying to be criminal, obviously are committing some heinous crime against nature or have some other leverage... everybody really could care less about you and your life.  Don't take it personally, they are horrified of the unthinkable:  I might need them to do something and somehow the request gains them no leverage at all upon my life and does not elevate the ego.  How horrendous they sputter, preparing a comparable lie to broadcast my inconvenience. Guilt comes as a bonus. 

What a terrible disease of the conscience to suffer from.  It's too bad people realize after wasting precious time focusing solely upon the advance of a person they don't even know:  themselves. No guilt bonus there. All in effort to avoid any real friendship.

Serious XM Vent

I believe nothing vents frustration better than being able to write SiriusXM and explain with all the proper gutter mouth I could muster at midnight that Howard Stern should not be training their employees.  (And he's sort of outdated and overpaid ... because Howard Stern seems to be kind of a lapdog these days compared to a lot of other comedians or radio personalities.)

I usually blush at saying so many curses, much less writing them, but I told them I was just doing them the same favor by trying to force me to listen and PAY for something useless.

I took on Dell and won, XM, meet your match.

DING, DING.  Baby's on the decks. (music reference)

I opened my mail at midnight thinking it was junk, and it was a collection notice from SiriusXM on the car I had wrecked and completely replaced.  I blew a gasket because when I was changing all the information the lady I talked to was horrible to me and abrasive and I CALLED THEM to purchase satellite radio.  Not good sales strategy.  Then, months later, lets not send any mail except the new car and treat me like a criminal.  They draft that monthly.  Thank goodness I keep receipts... but ooh I was MAD.  Aging occurs on hold.  Keep me on hold for a long time and be mean, it gets personal.

Luckily they fixed everything because I caught it in time.

Seriously.

And I'm not the radio station.

It gets a little crazy sometimes because of all the different obstacles I find in my path, myself and my mouth being the larger potholes.  However, the reason I live and breathe every day happens to be for those little things that I seem to abound in.  I took a chance, a can of air, some tape and a prayer and opened my Altar to the Gods.  My Dad's old Zenith Solid State circa 1965 silently opened and I took a deep breath to admire the stereo that was the only thing I ever wanted (and by some act of GOD, own) and then I withered inside as I turned the selector over to FM and the tuner lit up .... I miss my Daddy!...Then how can I stay sad when Aerosmith came through the speakers with pointers on how to "Walk this way"... and what station was it on?  Santa Claus' favorite station... Rock 92.

Then I turned on the floodlights, pulled out my extra copy of Fleetwood Mac, held my mouth right, taped the needle to the stylus and sang along wondering when Sarah was going to call me home.  I wish I could have shared the magic with them, but its OK.  I really needed something miraculous and well, those speakers make my Pioneers sound like whimps.

I love you Daddy.
I always will.

And Nattie's Camaro was tuned to Rock 92, just like every other FM tuner to pass under your hands.

Girl Power now embodies seeing who helped make me whole and wonderful and beautiful.  He did.

What do I do

You know, I am offended by people that seem to belittle my job. I work at home. What DON'T I do? Obviously I must be some Peg Bundy wannabe shoes and all. I've been watching the uTube, so I think I even have that beehive hairdo down.

Fuck off narrow minded people.

Some people believe sexual orientation is a precursor to intelligence. Monogamous being scum of the world and detestable.

I need to bathe.

I need a hairball treatment

I feel like dry heaving until the hairball lodged in my personality comes hurtling out of me. It will be one satisfying squishing noise when it finally plops itself violently outside of my body.

This hairball will be made up of daydreams, fruitless ventures of goodwill and Disney philosophy about life.. all angrily twisted together with the juices malice and reality squeeze from a pulverized soul.

Trust me, it will be one of the ones to brag over.