(That’s from “Archer” but it rings true here as well. Thank God for Russians. And tomato juice.)
Ahh yess… I am quite the lucky one. I’ve been given the glorious task of contributing pictures of my ex boyfriend for his birthday party/girlfriend’s baby shower. And because of my blessed Catholic guilt, I agreed to do it. So as I sit here, cropping myself out of memories and chugging bloody mary’s, I have to wonder…
Is there such a thing as “too much” vodka?
I’ve concluded there is not, although I know this in my heart to be false. However, I’m unsure if I currently have a heart because there is nothing inside me but alcohol and numbness. (Also tomato juice, which is giving me a bit of heartburn.)
I’ve created a fun new drinking game out of this pain and loneliness: take a drink whenever I start to cry.
(At present, I am plastered.)
Do you guys remember that game (and/or “horror-fest”) that you played as children when you’d go into the bathroom at midnight and say “Bloody Mary” 3 times in the mirror? Well even though she doesn’t appear and slaughter you (spoiler alert), you will see a crazed redheaded woman screaming with makeup running down her face.
At least that’s what I see.
Despite the fact that I was always more of a Queen Elizabeth fan, I’m starting to understand Mary Tudor’s methods. (Not killing Protestants. I just mean the whole “burning people” thing.) She was just pissed, that’s all. Her lovely mother was replaced by a trashy ho named Anne Boleyn and she wasn’t about to let her shitty hypocrite father stomp all over her beliefs. “Defender of the Faith”, my ass! Thinks he’s a goddamn prophet…
Anyways, people should quit giving her a raft of shit because I’d probably do the same thing if my father tossed my mom out and tried to disown me…
…oh, wait! He totally did! (The latter part at least.)
Also, thank you very much to my ex and his family for giving me the task of providing you with pictures that I TOOK.
So fuck them and fuck everybody and have a nice day. Also check out this post from Thought Catalog that reminded me of my post from a couple weeks ago. God bless and peace out and whatever else people say. I’m getting too drunk to see the keyboard.
UPDATE NOVEMBER 13th, 2014:
I totally emailed her the pictures and said something like, “Here’s the pictures, congratulations on everything! Wishing you all the best! *smiley face* ” and guess what the fuck she said in her response email…
“Thank you for the pictures. Your being really nice about this whole baby thing I know it’s hard because you still have feelings for zach but we are about to start a family and you gotta understand where I’m coming from when I ask you to stop contacting him.”
Ignoring all the grammar and spelling mistakes, I’m sitting here like WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!?! I don’t even contact him, HE contacts ME and I don’t want to be a part of their shitty little family!!!
(As though I’d leave my current fantastic boyfriend and get together with my ex so he can be a giant anchor shackled to my foot forever pulling me deeper and deeper into the water until I’m drowning in regret and clutching onto his child who calls me “Aunt Alanna”.)
Absolutely not! Ridiculous…
So I responded with this:
“Of course, I totally respect that and I wish you both the best. I won’t contact Zach anymore and I’m truly sorry if I’ve offended you in any way. That was never my intention. I really do wish you both happiness and I’m glad that I could help with the pictures. I promise you won’t be hearing from me anymore lol :)”
BECAUSE THAT IS WHO THE FUCK I AM, PEOPLE. THAT IS WHO. I. AM.!!!!!!!!!