So it’s been an incredibly busy day and now I’m waiting for someone else to do THEIR job before I can do mine and go home.  It’s started thundering over here.  All in all, it’s a large downer of a Friday.

I was checking the PostSecret site to see if mine was up.  Granted, I sent it in over a year ago and never really checked since, but I was reminded by the book I saw in BAM.  I doubt I’ll ever see it online.  But it had curse words and intrigue, so maybe I made the book.

It’s the poet in me, inspired by the passing thunderstorm, but I think I’m just gonna write some stream-of-consciousness stuff, a la PostSecret.  Just little one liners, directed at no one obvious.

Here we go:

You were the better choice.  Oh well.

You proved the stereotype about black man and their endowments entirely false.  Congratulations on that.

I often wonder who’s in there when you talk.

I still remember being too rough with you before I learned that you couldn’t handle it.  Your eyes make me remember.

You once wouldn’t let your boyfriend near me, as if being in my mere presence would make him leave you.  You were right.

Thank you for hitting me.  You made me quite a bitch because of it.

I want to save you.

You taught me a lot about love: mainly, when to spot its absence.

Every time you talked down to me, I imagined you having a heart attack and me watching.

Wow, these are evil and horrid, aren’t they?  Alright, let’s focus on the nice stuff:

You are amazingly talented at some things.  I wish you’d recognize them and stop doing all of the shitty things instead.

Okay.. um.. maybe I should quit.

Have a great weekend!