Life Isn’t About Finding Yourself, It’s about Creating Yourself

What kind of happy horseshit is this?!?!

I know it sounds all nice and fucking peachy on a greeting card, but in real life?!?! Bitch please!!

First of all if I created MYSELF, my measurements would be 36-24-36. If I had stats like that I’d even keep the fucking BPD (but only if I had to), long beautiful shiny hair, perfect teeth and Kylie Jenner’s eyebrows, a smoking hot tan (minus the skin cancer, please) and I’d like that all spread across about a 5’10 frame. That’s how I would fucking create myself.

What about emotions you might ask?? Well I might as well be vapid and stupid because this world of AI makes you that way anyway plus if I looked like that people would put up with a LOT more of my bullshit. It’s a win-win. Now let me hit the numbers and find a plastic surgeon with enough technology to make me look 20 again.

A girl can wish can’t she?!?

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Fuck You Cancer!!

My oldest, dearest friend, Debbie is fighting Stage IV Urothelial Cancer. I’m so fucking angry. Like DEFCON-5 enraged that someone as amazing, gentle, sweet, hilarious, generous and beautiful could be struck down with this God awful piece of shit disease. I have lost family members to the big C, and it was excruciating to watch Cancer sucks the very soul out of their pain ravaged, frail bodies. By the time that they were mercifully called HOME to much deserved Glory, I was literally on my knees praying and begging for their for suffering to end. My bestie and I are the same age, both with precious brand new grandbabies whom I naively assumed that we’d watch grow up as we grew older. Fucking TOGETHER. I think part of the reason I’m so angry is because her illness is making me face my own immortality and that scares the fuck out of me and makes me want to put my psychiatrist on speed dial because the mere notion of watching someone I’ve loved as a sister since we were thirteen years old suffer so unrelentingly has my BPD on red alert as it endlessly screeches “DISASSOCIATE,” in my mind, but I will not. No matter what. I will have her back exactly as I have had it for the past 29 years.

The worthless, self serving, dog and pony show of a god damn government and literal American hating Congress needs to stop worrying about what Melania wears, what President Cheeto Tan says or what AOC and her nutjob “posse” thinks and fund the FDA with an enormous budget so that diseases like cancer, cystic fibrosis, ALS, Alzheimers, Autism, MS, Lupus, Diabetes, Heart Disease, COPD, Fibro, PTSD, Schizophrenia, Bi-Polar and Manic Depression can be eradicated. I wish this with every fiber of my being. It won’t EVER happen though because Big Pharma has Washington in its very wealthy, very deep pockets.

FDA Person #1: Hey I know tens of millions of people are dying of above mentioned diseases every single day. That’s so tragic.

FDA Person #2: Yes, it really is sad. Hey, how far along are you on that new medicine that gives 95 year old men powerful erections?!?!

What in the fucking fuck?

The following is a text conversation between my heart, Debbie, and myself.

FUCK YOU CANCER!!