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Sunday, August 21, 2005 

Things That occurred To Me Today While Running Errands (or I wish I had a gun)

This story requires some background info. I hate writing background info, don't you? But whatever, here it is. I live on the rich side of ghetto city central. Which is, I know, pointless. I mean life up here on the hill is nice but I have to drive through shit to get here.

Also, thanks to all the mess with my ex-roommate aka soul sucking whore (refer to the april archives), I now live with my parents. Partly to pay back bills she stuck me with and partly because I'm still on the lease for an apartment I don't live in until the end of the year. Feel like slashing some tires with me?

So now I live rent free at the casa de la parientes. We have a deck, a pool, and poolmen that I occasionally have to let in. I feel like some rich spoiled kid/loser. I hate it. See my parents have always subscribed to tough love when it came to me, meaning I have never been handed shit or given a loan over a hundred bucks that I wasn't supposed to pay back immediately. My dependency gnaws at my skin... and theirs. I mean, we all like living together, but I'm 25. I need to get the fuck out. Never mind that I've been more independent and self sufficient than 99% of all the other people I know my age, I really wasn't raised to take handouts.

So today I leave the million dollar estates filled with caucasians trying to pretend that they've made it, and minorities that really did make it but are trying to pretend that they're still "keeping it real", to go run errands in the flatlands among the locals, the coke heads, and the welfare mothers.

If you're about to get righteous on me, stop. I grew up on THIS side of town and used to jeer the hill people. See that crappy jr. high where all the kids throwing gang signs are standing, yeah, that's where I used to go to school. And the park with the hypodermic needles? Yeah, that was a short cut, if you wanted to run into some questionable people who might sell you drugs, might give you a lift home, or might just push you into a bush. Yeah. I NEVER walked through that park only past it, and I STILL got jumped by 8 fat fucks one day who were getting initiated into a gang. Fuck those girls were fat cunts. They jumped me from behind and I still gave two of them a black eye... or maybe just small bruises. Whatever. I heard them say ow and that's all that matters. Here's the point, I hate the fucking mentality of this place.

All day today fucking pieces of shit looking at me dirty, like I'm soft, like they could take me. Look, FUCK YOU YOU CHOLA LOOKING PUTA. You think eyeliner on your fucking lips makes you tough, I'll hit you and your baby's daddy with my car you ugly piece of shit. You get welfare checks and sit on your fat ass growing fatter everyday while you "forget" to get on the bus to sign up your dirty kid for Medicaid and THEN you get pregnant AGAIN because you couldn't AFFORD birth control because HAVING the child or having an ABORTION is so much more cost effective?

Look man, I'm just trying to buy my kid sister's groceries for her lunch but you gotta look at me all shitty cuz I don't have makeup lines all over my face and my clothes are from target instead of the cheap ass mexican store next to the discoteca and bitch, you got another thing coming if you think you can take me. Because you can't. I won't hesitate to hit you back, take off the earrings I'm not wearing and throw down. Fuck I'll do it if I have to, but listen bitches, ain't none of you tough. You want to know what tough is?

Growing up with this shit and staying sober while keeping my knees together so I didn't end up strung out and pregnant like half the kids I knew at 13.

Now I'm not going to say that I always took the higher road. No way. I threw punches, I pulled hair, and yeah, I skipped at least two thirds of school. But I can walk through a fucking grocery store without dogging out every fucking person who looks different than me. You people need to grow the fuck up.

And the men. Shit I can't bend over. EVER. Or make eye contact. Eye contact is also a big mistake. The cat calls never stop. And trust me when I say that I don't think that I'm hot enough to cause all of this attention. Sometimes I want a pack of darts so that I can nail every stupid fuck that calls me mama cita. Ooooh mama cita, shake it! Sh-sh-shake it!

I think that's all the English they know, and there's a horrible part of me that is pissed off to think that THEY think they're good enough for me. I mean, look at me! And don't give me that bullshit, just cause life handed me a better plate, because I know from impromptu interviews, that half of these dumb asses had it better financially then I did. Same city, same schools, same same same.

Except now I wear polo shirts and pants that aren't five sizes too small while they give me dirty looks.

Haha. I'm still a ghetto mother fucker though. Don't let the college education fool you. I have a box cutter in my purse.