Something has been irking the shit out of me lately. Okay, not just lately, my entire life, but it’s been bubbling up under my skin more recently. Enough I need to get a point out there, and hopefully across to some of you ass wipes. I know, we haven’t posted in a while. Don’t think that isn’t because we haven’t been pissy. It’s mostly just that the things pissing us the hell off we’ve already covered, and if you are like me, I hate to hear dumb asses tell the same story over and over again. So here’s a new one for you.
Why the fuck can people not keep their goddamn noses to themselves? I am not talking about close friends. In my world, I have this inner-circle of people that I share pretty much every fucking aspect of my life with. And some of them do not even know each other. Some of them I know in person, and some of them I only know through the Internet. I hope you all know who you are. These are people in my own little world that I trust to just let it all loose on. And I’m not talking about things I post openly on the Internet. If I post something irking me on line, it is open for comment. I put it out there. I’m talking about these dipshits that you barely know, who blatantly ask you personal things about your life, mostly in the off line world.
There are some things, and some situations I am willing to talk to almost anyone about. For instance, my domestic violence past. To a degree that is, I will talk about it. (Sorry, I got a little Yoda-ish on you there.) If someone is asking me about this because they want to understand domestic violence better, or because they want to understand and help someone going through it, I’ll gladly discuss it. I want to help people in this situation. Knowledge is power here. Understanding is power. Let me help. But if some fucknut is just trying to dig juicy gossip out of me, I don’t want a fucking part of it. For almost a year after my ex almost killed me, I was terrified to go into the grocery store. Every damn time I walked in the building I was stopped by someone I barely knew, or who only knew of me because of my ex, trying to dig details out of me. I didn’t want to relive that just for their entertainment.
Money is another issue. My other ex has this idea that he is allowed to tell me what he thinks about my financial situation. Hell, he even will out and out tell me what to spend money on, and that I need to get out and get a job. Really? Well shit. I for some reason believed that I could just sit here on my ass, and all my money worries would just go away. Pecker head. I’m constantly trying to find a job. I did on line training to start up my own damn business, but apparently that isn’t good enough. I guess I have to give up on anything meaningful and listen to him. By the way, my business opened this week. Sure, it’s going to take a while for anything to get out there, but it’s here. He also seems to think that he can tell me what to spend my child support on. I’m not some fucking little white trash bimbo, taking her kid’s money and going out drinking. Every damn penny I get goes into the necessities in this house. And I so fucking resent some dickhead, who goes out partying in any shape or form, spending his money on hunting supplies, telling me what I should be spending it on. One day he’ll tell me that it should be helping to pay my bills, and the next day he’ll be saying that it should be used to only buy things for my son. Oh, and this is the same jackass who thinss $250 a month is more than enough to raise children on.
He’s not the only one. I have people message me on facebook about personal issues that they heard through the grapevine. If you only means of conversation with me is an occasional “like” on a link or status, leave my personal life the fuck alone. I didn’t post this, so why do you think you have a damn right to ask me about it?
My point people? Stay the fuck out of my business. Unless you are in my inner-circle, or I have posted it openly for comment. I swear, everyone’s noses are actually bigger than their damn heads, because they seem to be in the way of everyone else’s lives.
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Gossip and Drama seem to be the two things that a lot of people thrive on. If it’s not drama within their own lives, then they need to get it from other avenues about others. And living in a smaller town makes you more prone to having others gossip about you than in larger towns. BUT, don’t get me wrong, larger towns have it much easier these days because of that wonderful invention called INTERNET!
I don’t even need to know a person “IRL” (in real life) to hear the latest gossip about them. If you have a computer and
you put little tid bits of information about yourself out there, it’s like a red flag to the “drama llamas” alerting them to potential gossip that then turns into drama. I know from personal experience the sort of drama that can come from the online idiots. I’ve lived it! Hell, I’ve even had so much stress built up around it that I was physically SICK.
Outside of the internet, I’ve gotten away from a lot of the gossip and drama that use to follow me. I packed up my shit and moved to a new town 20 minutes away. I use to live in a town that when I walked out my door, half the town knew about it. I would get calls from people saying “Hey, what were you doing this afternoon at [insert store location]?” Now, I’m not sure why it would really be anybody’s business if I were to walk into a place called “toilet paper emporium” but don’t you think you could figure out WHY I was there? And even if you couldn’t figure out that I was picking up some precious “toilet paper” from said location, why does it matter? It’s like asking a person why they’re fucking breathing? LIKE YOU COULDN’T FIGURE THAT ONE OUT!!!!
The best type of drama/gossip is when you have people that live an hour away asking you those types of questions! Now I know they couldn’t have seen me leave my house unless they have me under 24 hr surveillance. It was like living under a microscope. I only thought celebrities lived under microscopes but apparently my life is that important that I must fall in that category too.
So the next time you feel that itch to start talking about someone or to cause drama, think to yourself “do you really NEED to do this?” “What purpose does it serve to ME?” and “Does it really matter what they do, and will it hurt me?” If you REALLY need drama in your life, go watch a god damn soap opera… there is enough crappy drama in an episode of General Hospital or All my Children to satisfy all your needs!
Lets start small town here. Or any town. More like small mind. Lets try my town. Do you know me? You think you do. You hear this, you twist that, and suddenly you are an expert on my life. Then your so-called facts come rolling back to me, and I sit and laugh at how off base you are. Well, laugh is an understatement. Maybe if you actually knew me, you’d be less likely to run your mouth. Scratch that. For two reasons. One, you’d still run your mouth because that is who you are. You seem to get some thrill out of everyone else’s misery. And two, I don’t want to know you. You are not exactly the type of person I want associated with. You joke how you sit around with your friends making fun of me. Really? Haha, awesome. I am so glad to know that I’m that entertaining. Maybe I should get my own reality show. Here’s a reality for you: Who cares what you and your friends are laughing at. If only you knew how other people looked at you. Most likely if you are dishing out the goods to everyone you know, you are trying to cover up all your nasty little quirks. (Like sleeping with your married boss, or cheating on your husband, or, well you get the picture.) Sure, I call one of my close friends when I hear something coming my way. We joke. We laugh. We are evil. But only too each other. It stops there. That is what friends are for. By the way, I’ve never been one of those people who think that certain people are better than others. I feel everyone is equal, it is just what you do with your mind that counts. You are making me reconsider that.
We now live in a society where the actual criminal has more legal right than the victim. They take all sorts of pictures, take him away in handcuffs, recommend you go to the hospital, and then out the door they head, with a simple pitiful look your direction. The next day, he is out on bail, with a simple “stay away” slap on the wrist, until the so-called hearing transpires. So the victim is left in fear. Because a temporary PFA, an actual PFA, or even a warning from the police is no security measure. Yeah, it is a consequence. But it isn’t stopping the bastard from walking right back in there and doing worse. This is one reason “she is stupid enough to go back.” He shows up, he threatens her. Or, even worse, he shows up, breaks down crying, telling her he is so sorry, he is going to get help, he can change, blah fucking blah. Yeah. Oh he will. He’ll get worse.
The Offensive Reality 