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a 16-year old boy got punched in the face yesterday because he chose to bark at me like a dog in front of his friends to look cool.



then i called his parents to tell them what i did. sure, i got "a good talking to", but it was worth it.



obviously, i feel no regret for what i did. i got my satisfaction when i saw him this morning with a swollen nose.



i think he and his little group of friends that he's the ring-leader of learned their lessons.

i'll give you a dollar if you come out of the closet already. then, i want you to take that dollar and go to the corner store and buy a pack of skitttles. after that, i want you to open thw package of skittles and throw the skittles up in the air so you can really taste the rainbow.

My aunt had a temper tantrum over Christmas ornaments that her daughter made over five years ago. She took it upon herself to threaten my boyfriend and I saying that we had to find them today by 3 pm, "or else!" (This is what I get for allowing her to pay for my boyfriend and I’s plane tickets to Ontario in January)



It gets worse.



So as my boyfriend and I are looking through the entire garage, we find a new generator (from hurricane season) and two gas canisters that had very large amounts of gasoline in them. At any point, that gasoline could have set itself on fire, and with the large amount of chemicals that are already in the garage there's no telling how large or small said fire could have been.



On top of all of this, when I tell my mother, all she says is:"Oh. That’s bad. But you'll take care of it, right?!" “Take care of it how, mother?” I asked. “I don’t know; that’s not my department. Handle it. Handle it.”



And they wonder why I drink.



So now, I’m waiting for my aunt to show up to pick up her shit. She’s an hour late. My whole day revolved around her when I had more important things to do; like some much-needed cleaning around the house, laundry, and setting things up with the other house that my boyfriend and I are going to move in to together. Yet, none of that seemed important in comparison to ‘her baby’s Christmas ornaments that she made when she was four years old.’ If said ornaments were so special from the beginning, then why didn’t she take them when she moved out? Oh, I know why? To purposely trap me into doing all of the dirty work.



So when I tell my aunt about the gasoline, I expect no response from her. She has made it clear that since she doesn’t live here in this house anymore, she doesn’t care what happens. Maybe that was all apart of her master plan. Maybe she was looking for Jewish lightning. I don’t know. The only thing that’s certain is that I’m always going to be a pawn in her schemes and that I’m always going to be her go-for person with no absolutely no say so in anything whatsoever. Perhaps Jewish lightning should strike and everything would go up in a burning blaze. It wouldn’t make everything better, because she had no conscious and soul for any of us spirits to haunt and torment for the rest of her life.