Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Fuck. You.

It was recently brought to my attention that I swear a lot. *snort* Right? Like I ever didn't swear a lot? Bitch, please.

Now, I'm not upset because someone noticed that I swear a lot. Nope. I'm not offended because that person thought I'm less intelligent because I swear a lot. Nope - because you know that shit isn't true. I am a well educated, intelligent, well spoken person. I just happen to like to swear. It's a way of venting... You know, before I explode like the proverbial spleen, killing everyone around me.

I'm upset because that person had the audacity to tell me to tone it down. No. Wait. I was upset. I cried and everything. But then I had a happy pill, threw back a few adult beverages, and shot some mother fuckers on CoD. I'm not upset any more.

I'm fucking mad as hell.

Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me that I can't swear. MY mouth. MY words. MY fucking choice. If I want to swear, you can damn well bet that I fucking will.

And if you don't like it because I do it at work, fine. Show me any place in my contract or my unacceptable practices that says I can't swear when I'm in the building but not working and then we'll talk. Until then?


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