Now that I dug up all that emotional bullshit from the archives, we can move on. Keep in mind I am much more jaded, fun, funny, rude, crude, and wonderful now. Except for the part where I gained some weight (ok all of it… and then some) back that I lost during the “Anorexia Age”. And now I’m sprinkling this Sensa shit on everything I eat in hopes that the pounds will magically shed off like the girl on the commercial. It looked legit. Lay off me.
So here I am. In the dead center of this cluster fuck of a relationSHIT that I can’t seem to walk away from. I didn’t ask for this. Not that I am in any way not to blame for it. I kinda hoped after that whole “supposed to be getting married & catching the love of my life making out with his neighbor” thing kinda cleared me of future bad relationships. It however, did just the opposite. That heartbreak was like a fuckin Tea Party compared to this bullshit.
Almost ten years ago, I had an incident at work that involved a 7 year old knife-wielding gangster and Shamus. See, my work involves a great deal of ghetto kids, ghetto parents, pit bulls, and weapons. We can get into that later cause that’s a really fun topic. When I’m not being threatened, shanked, mother-fucked, and robbed I REALLY love my job. And I do mean that.
Anyway, said incident ultimately resulted in the longest fuck I have ever had. And not in a good way.
I have never done crack. I think it’s safe to assume that it’s amazing even though the average, or even below average human, knows it’s deadly, highly addictive, and toxic. Crackheads love crack. They will do anything to get it. And you should see em come down from it!
He is my crack.