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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Say Aaaah

She’ll let her tooth rot out until it reaches peak-pain and then have it removed

She’s never had rest from her teeth; they’ve brought nothing but misery. From their disorderly alignment to their susceptibility to decay.

In many ways they’ve been a reflection of her own internal rot. No matter how hard she’s swung at the blood thirsty bats of life they get a bite, draw blood, come back for more.

And the professionals say “you should take better care”, what the fuck do they think she’s been doing? Eating rocks?

Two times a day, for two minutes. futile. But the professional with a degree dishes this bullshit advice out like a condom dispenser.

Surround yourself with positive things; don’t fixate on the negative (yeah I can do that, why didn’t i think of it?)

It isn’t at all like cutting yourself really (letting the teeth rot away); the ramifications of that are not as great

She’ll probably end up with dentures before she even touches the age of fifty

If she even cares to make it there

Left handed people on average die sooner than right handed people; she hopes so.

Happy people live longer they say (if only this were true. It isn’t)

She scoops a tiny portion of toothpaste with the tip of her tongue and guides it carefully to the crater in her tooth and dumps the numbing paste into the void.

The tingle dies away; she’ll live to eat another day