B for Backstabbers

I’m just starting to see the two-face-ness in my family; sisters backstabbing sisters, kids backstabbing parents, uncles backstabbing nephews. I don’t even know who I can talk to anymore without having to worry about my shit being aired out to the next motherfucker, and then that motherfucker passing it onto the next next motherfucker.

I swear gossip spreads faster than head lice. Everybody just thrives off it. It’s become their daily nicotine dose. If there’s no gossip within their friends or family, they look to celebrities. It’s like they’re so unhappy and bored with their own lives, they go searching for something or someone to talk about. It’s pitiful.

What ever happened to dealing with a problem face-to-face? Nowadays, people get upset with someone and look to Facebook or alcohol for guidance and support. But how does that solve the problem? You go on Facebook to back stab in the hopes of rounding up a little group of haters to spread the word for you. You buy you some alcohol, invite some friends over, and then you back stab to them over a few drinks. But when you log off Facebook, the problem is still there. And when you wake up the next day with a hangover, the problem is STILL there.

A for Alcohol

I don’t care how close we are, what state of mind you’re in, or how emotional you are at the time; don’t ever come to my house and disrespect my family in front of me.

If you get to a point where you can’t even remember what you did after a night and day of drinking, then maybe it’s time you stop drinking.

I am so sick of people blaming their actions and behaviour on alcohol, thinking they’re excused for what they did. It’s fucking bullshit. People forgive, but they never forget. The fights, the arguments, the hostility towards those who care most. In this day and age, people don’t even drink to have a good time anymore; they either drink to forget their problems, drink to start fights, or drink to express how they really feel.

The reason I’m even writing this is because I’ve been giving this person so many free passes and I think I’ve finally run out.

I’ve had my share of ugly mornings, but not once, have I ever woken up and forgotten what happened the night before. The blurry tears, the crazy rants, the pointless fights, the heated debates, the sad walkabouts, the angry sex – everything. I think you get to a point where you just know your limits, know what you can handle and what you can’t, know what your body can take and how much – you just know. Unfortunately for some, they don’t know when, or even care enough, to stop. And it’s dangerous. So many people blame alcohol for breaking up their relationships, or getting them into shit, but that’s not where the problem lies. The problem starts and ends with the person consuming it.

The fact that this person I’m upset with, is going to come over during the week, and tell me only what he recalls, is fucked up. And not because this isn’t the first time, not because I’m sick of hearing his confused apologies, but because I will never forget the hate I saw in his eyes and the way he disrespected my family in our own house.

What the fuck am I going to do? He’s my best friend.

About Last Night

I remember my drunk dreams more vividly than my sober ones.

So last night (or early this morning), I dreamt there was a man in a black suit, standing in the middle of nowhere. And anybody that would walk up to him, would be “saved” by a single touch. So I thought, oh cool, I’ll give it a try. As I walked up to him, he put his hands down and said, “No. Not you.” I was like, “What the fuck, are you serious?” He said I couldn’t be saved because I had to make up for all the shit that I’d done in my life. I said, “Okay. I can do that.” Then the motherfucker says to me, “You only have two hours.” I nearly cried. I was so close to saying, “Fuck it, take me now!”, because I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to right every one of my wrongs in two fucking hours. It felt so real. I could even feel the last breath of death crawling under my skin.

Fuck role-plays and “what would you do” situations

I almost failed an assessment the other day, because I suck at lying.

How often do you hear that shit?

So I was an “employee” and had to answer why our store closed 15mins earlier than the stated time, which was 5pm.

The first (and only) thought that came to mind was: ‘that’s none of your business.’

And to be fair, that was probably the only truth that came out of the whole assessment.

When applying for a job, they tell you to – “be yourself”. Which is understandable, there is, after all, only one of you in the entire world. But then again, they tell you to “fake it ’til you make it” which only tells me that you have to lie to kick it. In other words, you have to be somebody you’re not, in order to get to where you really want to be.

BUT, how the fuck, do you split your personality, in less than 10 minutes?

I thought that getting this qualification would enable me to find joy in pursuing a career in the business world. I thought wrong… Man, was I wrong.

I see all these tight-clothes wearing motherfuckers walking in and out of the office like they got tampons up their assholes. And then I think to myself: ‘do I really want to end up like them?’. It’s bad enough I can’t fake a smile to my own family. How the fuck am I supposed to fake a smile to strangers I don’t even know?

And I know the saying, “in order to do what you want to do, you have to do things that you don’t want to do.”

But damn, it’s like, I’m torn in between who I am, and who I want to be.


One month and a week since I last drank. And when I drink – I fucking drink. I find it so backwards, how the things that can actually (and legally) kill us, is sold to us in fine packaging. YET, the one thing that can actually cure sicknesses and emotional issues, has a fucking price on it. And a big one at that.

If weed was legalized, and treated as a fucking medicine, then maybe, just MAYBE, pigs would be out there arresting and charging the real criminals. To give a person 25 to life, just for possession of marijuana, is fucking ridickulous. Like, when have you ever sat down next to a stoner and felt some type of hostility towards you? … NEVER. Unless, they lost a whole bag of weed. But other than that – Are they out here killing people? Are they out here robbing people? Are they out here raping people? Nope.

I can’t even believe there isn’t a stoner-discrimination group to support the peaceful stoners of the world. For real.

In every movie, you’ll see the stoner character, played out as a ditsy cunt. Which I find discriminating as fuck. Of all the stoners I’ve met in my life, there has only been ONE dumb muthafucka that I have ever met. And the only reason I haven’t punched him in the face yet is because he’s my cousins partner. Booo!

Non-smokers look down on smokers like… zzz. Ugh! I’ll just piss myself off trying to explain, so fuck it.

Moral of the fucking story is, I’ve learnt more shit off stoners than I ever did in school.


Dear John,

The truth is, I don’t miss you at all. I just miss the way you made me feel. No matter how mad or sad, or not-in-the-mood I was, you always cared to ask. Something I could never do. The truth is, I never liked you the way you wanted me to, in fact, I only ever gave three fucks about you. I just thought of you as my next book to read. I never thought you’d end up feeling some type of way. The truth is, you’re a good man…a really good man…physically, emotionally, and financially…which makes you vulnerable to money hungry vultures. ‘You’re the type of person that can’t say no to people’ – That was always your biggest weakness, but at the same time, I think that’s one of the things that make you the really good man that you are. The truth is, most of the time we spent knowing each other, I pitied you. I told you then and I’ll tell you again – I still do. The truth is, your expectation of what could have been, ruined the reality of what actually was. The truth is, I almost gave you all of the fucks I had left. But everybody knows that love is pain and pain is temporary.

I mean this shit sincerely.


I have no problem with thieves and cheats. It’s liars that I can’t fucking stand. Steal from me? I can have it replaced. Play me? I can play you right the fuck back. I really can’t think of anything more annoying than a fucking liar. And now I’m starting to understand why bitches go crazy after their men lie to them. It’s like, you KNOW what you know, and all you want is for somebody to fucking admit it.

I have friends that steal, but they never hide their intentions. I have family that are sluts, but they never deny who they slept with. And then I have lying ass people that just happen to be related to me, and it’s really fucking with my mental.

Seriously, how hard is it to tell the truth?

The Pursuit of Happiness > The Pursuit of Money

When you become a parent, it isn’t the pretty picture that people paint in movies. Unicorns and fairies and rainbow sprinkles. It’s really fucking hard.

It’s hard watching your child see other children get what they want at the sound of a tantrum. It’s hard telling your child “next time” when they point at something while out shopping. It’s hard trying to raise your child with a sense of MONEY ISN’T EVERYTHING when todays society is built on material things.

This is what gets me out of bed every morning – the yearning for a better place to raise my child. A place where she isn’t influenced by the things that don’t matter. A place where I can teach her (without the disruption or interference of others) that in life, being happy is more important than having everything.


How do you unfriend a friend in real life?

You ever have those moments when you don’t realize you’ve made a mistake until it’s too late to turn back? They’ve already met your family. They’ve established a connection with the people closest to you. BUT in your heart and in your mind, you know that this person needs professional and psychological help. What do you do? Knowing that you have your own problems and issues to deal with. Do you keep pretending to care about this person, all the while, being untrue to yourself? Or do you tell him/her that you don’t want to be there for them, knowing it will kill them because they don’t have anybody else?