I’ve got Five Middle Fingers on my single little hand

You know what I don’t have to do?
I don’t have to care.
I can wake up and flash a middle finger at my alarm clock and let the rest of the day be a series of middle finger assaults which’ll invariably all blur into one

That old silver haired crow of a woman that keeps telling me to wear appropriate clothes will be the first to feel the wrath of my middle finger

That pig of a bus driver who looks at me as if we had dirty sex in some dirty alley will be second
Why does he always look like he’s just had clammy sex with a crab smothered in butter?

Beyond that;
faces blur, identities fuse into one another and I fucking swear if my neighbours don’t shut the fuck up I’ll gouge their eyes out with my middle fucking finger goddamn it!

When my aunt (the sprite-narcissist) figured it would be a great idea to take out some dirty laundry during grandma’s funeral I shoved an ugly middle finger right in her face. All my life I’ve been waiting for that moment and I’m rewarded with the rest of the family excommunicating my rogue ass.

Now that I am free I can see clearly now.
This satisfies me.
There will be more attacks and I don’t think I can stop.

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Confessions of a Muteful Hater: Not For Under 18z

Some may describe me as quiet and as one who does not stir up manure no matter the situation or circumstance and they wouldn’t be wrong in their observations as I am for the most part a placid little fucker

But there’s a particularly dark corner of my psyche in which hate and anger glows hot with excited indignation at all things alive or inanimate

Don’t tell me it’s my grandmother’s birthday, don’t ask if “I know how to warm” certain food because the microwave is crocked (I wasn’t born yesteryear)

Don’t make assumptions; don’t tell me you’re “sticking to your own truth” (for fucks sake what the hell does that mean??? Are there two thousand truths and you’re the ring leader of this idiocracy?) – Fuck off.

At times I feel guilt about my private little explosions because their content is so vile they would leave many a anger-therapists in a coma of disbelief

(mind you all of this rage is kept inside); I curse and curse and curse and wish the most vile things would befall those around me and politicians most especially (next to pedo’s and rapists, and general thieves)

I Hate with greater passion than I Love. One could say I love not at all. But oh hate; yes, I can taste it on the tip of my tongue.

When I was cheated on; I imagined things which have burnt a picture in my head to this day about my former lover (although I am without resentment towards the cheater now)
It is, admittedly, a good thing that all of this volcanic ire remains within.

I’d be a vile creature (much like those I despise) were it anywhere else.

[All things considered. I’m a full blown Humanist] ( 😀 )

Puppet Maestro

Finger tips abandon nails disclosure
Hot pot pan shoes grow atop mouldy fan
Give dentures share gums we’ll be friends
Forever and ever a man waltzes with warts
On his hands, on his upper lip and lower hip
Sir, if you would so kindly stir, the can of worms
The can of primary numbers which I do not possess
Much like my bank account, or theirs
I don’t know
Finger tips abandon