You, cold weather, with your germ-carrying sniffle-causing winds. Yes, you. I’m over you. Go away.
You, prostitot. You haven’t even hit puberty yet. Tuck your shirt back into your diapers and wear a skirt that fits you so your baby-vag isn’t hanging out. It’s called “Childhood”. Look it up.
You, judgmental prick. I see you sizing up my relationship, thinking it shouldn’t be this easy. I know you think I don’t deserve it. Guess what? You don’t know shit from shit. How about you take your miserable lonely self out of my face and go look in the mirror instead.
You, entitled, spoiled brat. Listen. LISTEN. Shut your face. You don’t know shit from shit and you certainly have no idea what people have to endure to get to where they are. They fight battles. They earn every day and every good thing that comes to them. Take your whiny ass down a notch off that high horse and realize that you aren’t entitled to a damn thing.
You, the one with the college degree from that expensive school. You think you have a right to judge others because you’re book smart? Because you memorized a few textbooks and think you know shit because you read about it from the comfort of your warm, cozy dorm room with a chilled beer in your hand? You don’t know shit about shit. Shut your ‘educated’ mouth and listen once in a while. Maybe pick up some common sense along the way.
You, media. No, listen. LISTEN. You need to get your shit straight. Put your reporters under scrutiny to get their facts and sources straight before they throw headlines at us…and then saying “Oh. Whoops. It was a prank. We screwed up.” That’s not how it works. When people on Twitter are more reliable than you, I think it’s time to re-evaluate your work ethic.
You, germs. GET THE EFF AWAY FROM ME. I am going to Boston this Friday and I will enjoy it. So back…OFF.
You, the eternal pessimist. Life is never perfect. Something will ALWAYS go wrong. Stop wasting your life crying over it. Look at the positives, take a deep breath and take life head-on. Always complaining won’t get you anywhere but the constant cycle of self-pity.
And you…yes…you…I’m over you. Without a doubt, without any more tears, I’m over you.
What are YOU over today?