WHAT are all these people doing in our house?
Seriously. Who the FUCK invited them? This was supposed to be a nice Thanksgiving meal between my parents, my brother and I. Dad’s sitting at the kitchen table carving up the turkey and we’re trying to have Nice Family Time but there are WAY too many people here. This is NOT how it was supposed to be.
And you all – I’m looking at you, Mom and Dad – are all like “Oh, this is great! These are the people we invited over to our house!” All tra-la-fucking-la, no one gives a shit what Julie thinks. No one cares that Julie made that fucking apple pie from scratch and WHY IS THIS RANDOM CURLY HAIRED BITCH TAKING IT OUT OF THE OVEN LIKE IT’S HER FUCKING PIE? I DID NOT MAKE THAT PIE FOR YOU, BITCH. I did not make ANY OF THIS for ANY OF YOU.
I am SO angry, so fuck you. All of you: I’m hiding in the dishwasher.
It’s a good thing someone took out the racks, otherwise I’d never fit. Still, it’s a little tight in here. I’m not sure we can close the door. Oh, whatever. Fuck it. If you need me, I’ll be in the computer room, working from home.
But who’s this bitch standing behind me as I log into the computer to work from home? She leans in close. “Do you even know how to use a computer?” she hisses. Oh NO you did NOT, Miss Motherfucker.
So. Much. Rage.
And then I woke up.
the sloppy copy 