This bitch won't leave me alone. in The grotesque metamorphosis of a Bi-Polar human into a Tri-polar monster.

This fucking bitch that started note spamming me a while back with a bunch of hateful nonsense won’t leave me alone now.

Apparently her brother died…he was 33 and very successful, yet he died of a drug overdose…and since I do drugs, I am not successful, so how the fuck did her piece of shit brother somehow end up being a success AND he was helping fund south american terrorists (her words, not mine)?

This just doesn’t make sense.

But I know that I should listen to her because she’s married, and she has a job, and apparently she doesn’t do drugs…holy shit, what a fucking unicorn! This person must be the holy grail of wisdom. I wish she would stop fighting with me long enough to let me drink from her golden chalice so that I might be as enlightened as her one day.

It’s like…it’s like I wish I was married, that would probably fix all of my problems, and then I could go around and tell people how to “adult” like the word “adult” was a verb because I have no fucking idea how the English language works, but if I was “adulting” I sure as fuck would.

The best part about this whole thing, is that somewhere in the middle of her hate filled barrage, she managed to let it drop that her stupid piece of shit brother died from a drug overdose like a fucking moron and then she gets offended when I tell her I’m glad her stupid piece of shit brother is dead and I hope that she joins him.

Like…if you are coming at someone aggressively, on a battlefield that consists ONLY of words and information, why are you going to go out and just let people know EXACTLY where one of your weakest spots is? Like…what the fuck is your deal, Maisy? I thought you knew how to adult…I mean, you obviously know how to adult better than your super successful DEAD drug addict of a brother, but I thought you knew how to adult well enough to have an educated debate with someone without bringing everyone down to your shitty level where now I am writing a fucking entry about how glad I am that your stupid brother is dead.

Oh, you didn’t think I’d go there? Maybe you forgot what a low life you are dealing with?

Or maybe you just forgot that just because someone died, it doesn’t make them special…and just because you know someone who’s died, it doesn’t make either of you special.

I know lots of people who have died. Family too. One of them in an unspeakable way…you want to get real dark? You want to talk about the murder of a child? You want to see how deep this rabbit hole goes you insignificant little waste of carbon?

Your sheer audacity alone is enough to make me vomit, if I vomited from that sort of thing.

You enjoy your mediocre life (and I know it’s mediocre because you honestly think that some douche bag who died of a drug overdose at 33 was “successful” so your measure of success is just as flawed as everything else about you.) and leave the rest of the world alone with your nasty cunt gas that just flows and flows into every nook and cranny of existence until your fat fucking husband leaves you sad and alone, crying with any snaggle toothed, two point IQ having, dead eyed little monster children that you’ve somehow managed to spawn.

Send me a fucking post card when you are living in a cardboard box in the streets of London with your little mutt children, and I will do you the kindest favor anyone has ever done for you…I will fly across the pond and put you and your shitty filth offspring out of your misery once and for all, because I am a merciful man…I am fair…I am just.

I just want what’s best for the world.

Last updated June 23, 2017