Today has not been a promising day for the tiny bit of humanity that I keep locked up and buried deep, deep inside of me just like how Scrooge kept his gold coins securely buried away (seasonally appropriate reference).
I am burning with such fury that I can melt a snowman into a puddle at 20 paces. They have not even invented terms for all the kinds of angry I am today!!! Luckily my mind is humming too damn fast to submit y'all to the blind redness dripping through my skull.
And it is all because of a shirt.
Yes, a God damn Fucking T-shirt.
Although to be more precise, it is due more to our world's degradation into tree hugging, ass kissing, calloused knees, cum drunk, politically correct, over sensitive, whiny little bitches who overachieve in only the single aspect of stripping down the world to it's most blandly lukewarm configuration that is as dangerous and terrifying as a sack of newborn kittens. Screw those motherfuckers and the horse they raped on their way into town. I HATE those worthless, childish games and dragging me to the table to join in and play my hands does not make me a happy girl in the slightest bit.
My favorite videogame shirt has a white mage from the original Final Fantasy on the front and proclaims a slogan on the back saying "guns don't kill people, magic missiles do." Amazing how that simple article of clothing which I have worn to work countless times suddenly became "inappropriate" enough overnight for my boss to be dragged into work on her day off for the incredibly complex task (that a roomfull of managers who were already there could apparently not do themselves) of informing me that because someone complained about a gun reference on my shirt (which promotes NOT using guns), that I have to submit humbly to censorship and turn my shirt inside out AND go home.
What the fucking hell is the deal with that shit. I don't know if I'm more impressed or more disturbed that someone managed to force their apron string entwined arm down far enough to remove the thumb from their mouth long enough to emit a high pitched shreek of a complaint against an imagined slight against their delusionally comfy pretend world.
<rant over with a sneer of disgust>
(Afterthoughts)
Why I cling to my last tattered shreads of humanity like a limpet to a wet rock is a very sad and wobbly thought which is extremely disturbing to contemplate.
