Full Hate. Too Late.

fuck my coworker. he’s such a dick.

he gets mad that we don’t recycle in the office
yet he has no problem running an extra ac unit cause
72 degrees ain’t pleasant enough for him.

Tags: dipshit

Dear Neanderthal driving in the lane to my right:

 I am trying to pass you because you are driving 10 mph slower than I am. Why do you speed up and match my speed?  Really? To look into my car? Like you’ve never seen a lady before? What do you think I am going to do? Stop and give you a BJ? Show you my tits? I am flattered that you are acting like I am the most beautiful thing you have ever seen and you’re trying to get your fill of this beauty before we part ways, but can you let me fucking pass you so I don’t miss my exit???

K - thanks.


Dear People who #ChooseLife and choose #ChooseLife license plates:

If you get that plate, you are the last person who should be driving like they want to kill other drivers with neglect. Do you care more about an unborn fetus in a stranger’s womb than your fellow live human driving next to you on the road? My heart has been beating for 33 years and approximately 252 days and I am a natural brunette. Try not to kill me. Thanks. 


i wish i was a boy
i’d operate at night
i’d navigate the dark.

but i’m just a girl.


Pattern. Pitter Patter Patterns.

Life is often just about noticing patterns - like jump rope. If you notice the pattern, you’ll know the right time to jump in. Or the wrong time to jump in.  You can temporarily distort the pattern, but the pattern is a pattern. It’s the center where all returns to.  Everything returns to the same mundane sameness.  Even the pattern distortions have patterns.   We live in a globe that forever spins and rotates around the same orbit forever and ever. The seasons always change. The sea turtles hatch around the same time each year. No one is excluded from the pattern. Humans are just deluded by the illusion of choice. 

Find your pattern. Know your patterns. Can you change a pattern? Only if you can recognize the pattern can you work with it. 

i don’t know what I am saying. It’s been a long morning of my boss telling me inappropriate stories. He has patterns. There’s one week a month where he feels like telling me parables.  Each day this week for about 2 hours = story time.  I am very learned this week on the Chinese reserve of dollars, the Irish real estate market, the pros & cons of the Scottish independence, installation of water systems in rural areas, the very sad life choices of a coworker who collects weapons, and the tales of a nymphomaniac whose vibrator is too big for her ass. 

Pattern is a funny word to say. 

"Oh, Solitude!
There is no hope of pain in thee."

— From a poem I’m not finished writing

Underwater Puppies