Who Cares?

Who cares that I’m late…

Who cares that this blog is straight filler…no substance?

I don’t. I’ll be glad when it’s over.

I’ve talked about love, life, tits, movies, domestic violence, friends, food…etc. I’m spent. Or maybe what it is, is that what I really have on my mind I’m too concerned that viewing eyes will see it and see themselves. I never was good at that…not caring whose feelings I hurt.

Alas, I blog of nothingness when I’m irritated up my ass at folks. I guess I’m still rolling hardcore with Oscar. He likes me. He understands me right now. I want to say BLECH, to everything.

Oh, totally off topic…why in the FOREIGN FUCK, did some Latino dude get nasty with me at the job today? I’m standing there, waiting for a cab…he’s blowing leaves and actually yells at me (not just because it was loud…but because he was frustrated) and says bitch-style, “EXCUSE ME!!!!” I say “bitch-style”, because he said it like a true diva bitch would. Hand on his skinny hip and all. I said, “Where do you want me to go?”. It was a legitimate question. This fucka huffed and said, “EXCUSE ME!!!” And waved his frail arm in the opposite direction. I wanted to take his antiquated leaf blower on wheels and run his ass over and then blow him down the street. JACKASS! ┬áHe probably was mad because him widdle friend had a super lightweight backpack blower that did the job he was doing twice as fast. No wonder the other dude was nicer…his back and arms weren’t numb from pulling a 70lb blower around.

Who cares about his stupid landscaping job? I didn’t. Not today!

Anyway…I’m tired. I’m about to lie down and pray that Oscar breaks up with me really soon. His crib is beginning to smell like old onions and fish ass…

Good night.