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Monday, October 23, 2006 

I Had A Disagreement With The Irishman

I say disagreement because no one yelled, or threw anything. He says disagreement because no one was stabbed. Apparently, since I'm Puerto Rican, I automatically stab people during fights.

Even if I don't have a knife.

Apparently I run out, find a piece of metal in nature, and instantly weld or whittle it or whatever into a knife. Because I'm Puerto Rican.

Anyway, I don't know what it is but he's slightly annoying me. Do you ever have a great day, an awesome day, and then someone comes into your line of vision and instantly you're pissed as fuck. Then they leave and POOF, happy again?

Fine. Fuck you, I have problems.

Not that this only happens with him, it happens with everyone. Sometimes it's my mother, sometimes it's my best friend, sometimes I'm just sick to death of talking to someone and need a break, a breather, a moment to not be the person that I am with them.

So he calls, all chit chatty, and I ask him if he's done that thing.

That thing he promised to do almost a month ago. Don't fuck with my memory because I can almost always point to an exact date on a calendar you SPECIFICALLY said you were going to do said thing.

I fucking CATALOGUED it in my brain.

So he says, no, he hasn't done the thing, and frankly it's low on the totem pole. No real reason for not doing it except he doesn't want to do it. WHAT?! I didn't ASK you to do it, you volunteered! So then he said maybe he'd do it, if I could just learn to LET GO of shit instead of hammering at it.

I can count how many times I've brought it up. Again, don't fuck with me, this 'THING' has been catalogued, tracked, and filed. When things are important? Yeah, I ALWAYS count how many times I bring it up, because, what if I cross the line? Piss you off? Then I will NEVER GET THE THING.


So I was all, fine, sorry, won't ask for it again.

And I won't. But the resentment will build until he does it. Just like he fucking promised.

Or maybe I WILL ask for it? Because you know what? You fucked up men are alway going around screaming, OH, I'M NOT A FUCKING MIND READER! As if the problem is that WE, as WOMEN, as a GENDER, weren't fucking specific enough when we asked you to put the toilet seat down, pick you shit up off the floor, take out the fucking garbage that we left for you in front of the door, after you ignored our repeated requests, and you STILL bypass it on your way to work.

Oh I'm SORRY! Was I supposed to ask you to not sleep with my best friend Betsy? My fault. I probably should have been more specific.

You know what? I know what you bastards are up to. You know exactly what we want but you pretend to be stupid so we'll just quit asking. It's why you deliberately break dishes, so we won't ask you anymore to clean them. Or 'accidentally' insult our cousins so you don't have to pick them up from the airport, sit next to them at dinner, or even be in the same room as them for the rest of your fucking lives.

You know what women need? Tasers. Fucking big ass tasers. Keep you mother fuckers in line.


I'm sorry, but the last fucking thing you need is a goddamn taser.

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