asshole that ran my car off the road. Ether one of those will do. I haven't used Facebook that much lately because I really don't have that much to say that isn't depressing. And then I saw How to announce you’re infertile on Facebook by Elphaba. My favorite is 10b.
"10. “I love my big house and my fancy car and the fabulous vacation I’m taking. I’m so glad I can’t have children who would just tie me down and prevent me from living this fabulous life.”
When in doubt, turn it around and make them jealous for a change. Even if you don’t feel it, make it seem like your life is fucking fantastic. Confidence is everything. And then when you’re inevitably hit with the “oh once you have children none of that stuff matters” comment from some self-righteous cow, you have one of two options:
a) You stick it to her: “Yah sure, material things don’t matter when you have kids–that’s why I had to listen to you obsess for weeks over which $700 baby stroller would be best for baby Sharpie’s precious behind. I’m so glad I never have to prove I’m a worthy mother through shopping.”
b) Or you can pretend you don’t care: “Haha, you’re funny. I’ll send you a postcard from Tahiti. Enjoy being pooped on.”"
I think this is how most of my status updates are going to be for awhile.
A few people asked what's wrong with me lately. Do you really want to know about my raisin ovaries, my totaled car or my dying pet? Or should I find another depressing topic we can share our feeling about?
I'm sure I offend and pissed some people off. But I don't really care. I don't know if that is a good or bad thing. But just send me an email or Facebook message (they go to the same place, I have an iPhone because I'm financially irresponsible and have raisins for ovaries). And after a few long islands or cosmos I'll get back to you and we can have a wonderful "grass is greener on the other side" conversation. Because I really just don't give a fuck...
CD31, I guess the ovaries are still on vacation, dam