10 Things that scare the fuck out of me:

inspired by V.V. at twinkellewrites.blogspot.com.

1. People that pray via facebook status. If I poke Jesus, do you think he'll send me a drink??

2. Honestly, it only scares me that I have yet to become friends with ol' crazy eyes and the gospel McDonalds singers...

ps. that beat is SICK, BRO!

3. You should have to pass some type of intelligence exam before you can breed...

4. To all the rednecks that demand hispanics "learn our language or GET OUT", Your vocabulary makes me sterile. Which is cool... but you still scare the fuck out of me. Kill yourself.

5. Oooh hey, they have a bidet in this gas station restroom OOOOOH SWEET JESUS, TOILET SNAKE!

6. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, PULL OUT NEXT TIME! If you keep going at this rate there won't be any funeral attire from Goodwill for the rest of us!

7. Freakass Fingernail lady, your "determination" and "drive" do not distract from the fact that you look like you died in 1978!

8. Only in America is this kid NOT AN ABORTION.

9. This guy is not an extra in ZombieLand! He just fucking looks like this! Which means there are "pretty much zombies" running around Gwinnett County, Georgia. We need a survival plan and FAST!

10. White rappers... two things that just don't go together... like Richard Simmons and vagina...

Dear vulnerability,

fuck you.

-thursday. january. 14. twentyten.

...and at the most minute of arguments I can't help but hate you lately. I used to just raise my voice and use language more colorful than a Lisa Frank notebook circa 1993. Now, I glare. This is not just any glare. The kind of glare that sears the back of my eyelids. This heat could easily warm a family of five. My jaw locks and the pressure on my teeth causes an ache in my temples. And the silence. That "pin-drop" silence.

Reminds me of 2nd grade. After reading Matilda I thought I could melt my teacher's face with my eyes. I was always certain it was just about to work right before the bell rang.

Yes, my dear. Sometimes, I am trying to melt your face.-

When you break up after 5 years you can pretty much call yourself a divorcee. 5 years. That's 1,825 days. 43,800 hours. A shit-ton of minutes and seconds. No one ever just breaks up after this long. You drag it out. The seasons change. You try so, so hard. You cry, hug, laugh, belittle, push, pull...something will work... it WILL get better. I mean, it always has before.

Suddenly, you are absolutely clueless to relationships. You used to be a professional at love. A professor at love. You were $25 an hour away from teaching a class to all your friends.

How did we make it this far? (I need awhile to figure that out.)

What changed?

Maybe apologizing to other human beings for your behavior for the last 1,825 days got to me.

Maybe it was your music snobbery.

Maybe it was your pride and pretensions.

Maybe hearing songs of humpback whales echoing out of our bathroom everygoddamntime you use it annoyed me to the breaking point.

Maybe I did the math.

Maybe I need someone funny.

Maybe it's because you never take me out.

Maybe my friends said things like, "You two are absolutely NOTHING alike." or "I feel like you let him get away with murder."

Maybe your friends said things like, "Well, this is going to be another thing you will just have to get over."

Maybe you drank too much.

Maybe if you had a zipper on your mouth that would keep you from saying stupid shit without thinking we wouldn't be in this mess. Well, that's not a maybe. That's a fucking certainty.

Maybe this is just what happens as you get older.

Maybe I got bored.

(I need awhile to figure that out.)

thanks for your patience.

An empty house. A bottle of red wine. Laying on the floor listening to records. This day off was not nearly long enough.

Dear Pork, Bacon, and Slim Jims of the world,

Listen, I don't like you... and you don't like me. There was a time when I was a little envious of your kind. The fact that you fuckers can roll around in the mud and have a blast offends me. I get rolled onto my back once and SHIT IS OVER... you will find my last Will and Testament located inside that bush by the shed. That's my broker's house, Henry. He's a pretty cool guy.

Anyway, the last few weeks have been amazing. Beautiful weather, turtles in bikinis... amazing. Then Babe comes along and sneezes on some fucking kid and now we're all going to have tan-lines of this bullshit all summer:

Really, sir? A thumbs up?? You pretentious fuck... I will stab you.

Moving on, you pigs really think launching a bullshit illness on the earth is the only way to get attention??? NO, IT'S NOT! You bitch and moan about being eaten until some ridiculously intelligent spider named Charlotte writes some shit in her web about you being "radiant" and then they take your fat ass to the fair for a glorious parade. It's that easy!!! No need for everyone to have a 104 temperature! Why you gotta give us the sniffles, pig?!

I grew up in Detriot, pig...and you don't scare me a bit. This Swine Flu is the least scary shit ever... totally over-rated. Even the monkey from OutBreak was all like:

It's been done! And better! That monkey made people bleed out of their eyeballs. Yeah, it was only a movie, but if you're going to do something FUCKIN DO IT RIGHT!

Why don't you just go to rehab or flash your vag getting out of a car like all the celebrities do when they want attention? Damn.

You better check yourself before you wreck yourself, Wilbur, you DICK.

thanks,

*angry turtle*

Dear Mount Redoubt,

All the other volcanos are laughing at you.

What the fuck kind of volcano are you?! You're supposed to strike terror in the hearts' of homeowners everywhere. Farting ash five times a night is not terrifying... maybe to your volcano girlfriend but NOT to the rest of us. So... what's the deal, volcano? It seems every douchebag that comes out of Alaska these days is an attention starved whore.........................................

You should run for Retarded... I mean, Republican office in 2012 too!

I hate to be the bearer of bad news... but all the volcanos in my hood said, "you'za fag. You don't erupt, you just a flamer." I know that hurts, but god dammit I'm trying to help you here! Everyone is Mount Redoubting your sexuality with each little limp-wristed puff of ash. There has even been talk of you frolicking around a Pottery Barn with Lance Bass looking at window treatments. It's only a matter of time until that shit is on perezhilton.com, volcano!

Don't act brand new...MAN THE FUCK UP AND ERUPT ALREADY.

thanks,

angryturtle

Dear Nicholas Cage,

You horse-face son of a bitch.

That is the only possible way I could think to start this letter. You have offended me, Mr. Cage. Bangkok Dangerous??? Really?? A hit man that grows a conscience and doesn't want to kill. It's been done! Grosse Pointe Blank with John Cusack. Personally, I absolutely adore that movie mostly because there is no trace of your punk-ass face in it... and Minnie Driver gives me a tiny turtle boner...

Your horrible movies are one thing but I am mostly offended by how purely inconsiderate you are. Did you ever stop to think, "Maybe I should wear some type of pleasant mask, or just a bag over my head since I am so god damn ugly." NO, YOU NEVER THOUGHT THAT. BECAUSE YOU'RE A SELFISH DICKHOLE.

Naturally, as a reptile, I would solve this dilemma by simply eating your face. However, Mr. Cage, I KNOW IT WOULD TASTE HORRIBLY BLAND AND BORING! AND THAT IS COMING FROM SOMEONE WHO EATS FUCKING GRASS ON THE REGULAR.

Do you ever make a different face? Even I have more than one! There's docile turtle and SNAPPIN' TURTLE, WATCH OUT!

I bet you even make that stupid ass face when you sleep.

Get a new fucking face. Not like in Face-Off where you just traded your face, NO! I never want to see that shit again. Get a new fucking face, immediately... and kill the old face with fire.

Thank you,

angryturtle