Dodge a bullet proof your vodka abuse your daughter and she grows up to be a slut just like you called her when she was 12. Tell her she’s a stupid, ugly ass and she proves ya right by marrying Mr. Wrong. It becomes her. To make up for not bein loved, she has a buncha babies, who live to hate her.
Teens can be combative and my dog is transgendered. He’s actually a pussy born in the wrong body and thinks he can wake us at three am to take him out. No, no, I’m the alpha, male, omega, who will tell your little furry ass when you can poop and it ain’t at three, that’s me.
Thank You God for getting middle-school son to the bus on time considering the wind chill is -18. Thank you for my bathrobe and warm car. I know it all comes from You. I love You, just not life. I didn’t order dis mood, and it wasn’t gettin any better. Suicide is close enough to taste. My Tourette’s was outta hand, I was swearing in front of the kids way more than usual and felt like an unraveling spool of anxiety. Every morning fulla dread and hate. Only God could get me up.
I broke down, cracked into tears and called my shrink. He said, “Add Zoloft,” to the ten pills I already take. I actually felt better for a few days and then started pooping my pants. I’d say, “No shit,” but it is. Yep, there’s always room for a side effect of NSAID’s and camouflage Good Night disposable training pants. Adult diapers cost too much and they were outta the ‘girl’ kind. But we all know I’m a 12 year old boy trapped in a moms body, give me Godzilla not Taylor Swift. I rock my army pull ups and don’t wake anyone to go. As a matter of fact, I sleep through it. You heard me, I’m shiting the bed. This is great!
I don’t have to kill myself now cause if I keep pissing poo, I’ll disappear. My homeless addict sleeps in my car and when I try to take the kids to school, the battery’s dead. I pay the tow guy what I woulda made at work. Who knows what’s under my bathrobe? I’m a soldier in a shit storm.
Next day my daughter shovels the drive. Basking I back over the shovel. Ching! Did ya hear that? It was my paycheck. Like magic. One jump, one shovel, one mom doesn’t get paid, but who needs money? Billy Gates is drinkin feces and I had a good night sittin in a gold mine!