I Will Make Your Anger my Bitch  

I don't know what the hell was up with everyone yesterday, myself included. Maybe there was a unreported tornado in the gulf last week that sucked up a metric ton of BP's shame and unleashed it upon North America in the most angst-filled rainstorm ever. Or perhaps everyone finally realized how fucking frustrating soccer is to watch and began to lament the time they've wasted on it. Whatever was up people's asses yesterday, it was of near epidemic proportions. I heard that even Tom Hanks was punching babies, THAT'S HOW BAD IT WAS.

I definitely wasn't immune to this moodiness of unknown origin. The worst thing was that we were all feeding off each other; I was getting upset by how upset everyone else was, then taking it out on others, in turn making them more upset. It was like some hippie commune where the residents keep passing the clap back and forth to each other until no amount of antibiotics will do the trick. Thankfully, the solution to our mass anger was a lot less painful than a wire brush to the genitals. Everyone just go home, have a drink, get a good night's sleep, and start fresh tomorrow.

Or so I thought.

We're only a couple of hours into today, yet it's obvious that very few people seem to be feeling better. And personally I'm sick of it. Not only am I sick of it, but I am taking a stand -- you PMS'ing bastards will not get to me today. You want to come at me with your petty anger so be it; I'm going to hold you down, draw a unicorn on your forehead, and shove some chocolate in your face. Then I'm going to hug you so hard your that you'll break down in tears and forgive your Dad for not loving you enough. What do you think about that? If you're still somehow feeling pissy, I will tickle and zerbert the shit out of you until you become literally pissy. From laughter. In your pants. Not so angry now, are you motherfucker?

Today is the day that I refuse to let other's bullshit become my own. Do not fucking test me on this, you wonderfully awesome sons of bitches.

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