Crazy Bitch: Entry One
Several weekends ago I spent half my Saturday cleaning out a storage locker filled with the remnants of a former residence. Most of the shit had been sitting there for five or more years, so I thought I’d take a look around before officially tossing it out. While traveling down memory lane via chuckling at a stack of obscene photographs showcasing a few of my less noteworthy sexual conquests, I noticed what turned out to be multiple volumes of a diary written by a terrifyingly crazy but sexually gifted young woman with whom I was involved, in one form or another, for quite some time. I recalled several especially ugly arguments we had toward the end of our unholy union, concerning the diary’s whereabouts. How it wound up where it did, packed away with my boxing cards, is anyone’s guess. But there it was. Hundreds and hundreds of pages spanning our entire relationship. As I thumbed through it, smiling at her unbridled insanity like a blue ribbon prick, I damn well knew I wouldn’t be doing the honorable thing – she wouldn’t be getting it back. No, at that very moment I had a crystal clear vision of the severely malicious mission I would soon undertake. That said, welcome to the newest addition to my website, in which I’ll be publicly dissecting every last psychotic syllable of her diary. It is my hope that the process will offer some valuable insight into the depraved mind of a woman who could, for all you know, be sharing your bed. Welcome to: Diary Of A Crazy Bitch.
* Disclaimer: Entries will not be posted in chronological order. Grammatical errors (there are many) will be corrected to prevent confusion. Errors in punctuation will remain intact. Certain names, dates, and locations will be altered, to protect me from a massive fucking lawsuit.
May 15th –
“Work fucking sucked last night. I hate working with stupid fucking bitches. Ugh, whatever. I was so pissed after my shift I just started screaming when I got to my car. I almost kicked the windshield out. When I got to the store another dumb bitch almost hit me with her piece of shit truck. I thought about how her face would feel crunching beneath my fist. It felt good to think about that. It fueled my anger and made me smile. Or maybe the smile was from the fifth of vodka I almost finished just on the drive home. All I could think of was getting fucked up. I wanted to feel something else. The anger never left, but instead of it overwhelming me it became me and I relished in it. I snorted a few rails and stared into the mirror. I started hyperventilating. I don’t know why. I stopped smiling and the anger grew in me like a million larvae born into flies that were trying to tear out of my skin. I closed my eyes and screamed till my throat burned. I started pulling out my hair. Jesus, am I fucking crazy? Fuck that. Everyone else is fucking dumb.
– I’ll let this introductory segment speak for itself. Stay tuned for many more.