PlazaJen: Passion Knit

OoooooOOO! I could just slap somebody!

Let's see. I won't. But I sure could! OOOOO! Even an impartial viewer said it was a diss. But there wasn't any graceful way to handle it except to Miss Manners Rise Above It, and good goddamn sometimes, I sure would like to just get my scrappy-do out and out-bitch the bitch. But, reason must prevail.... and don't worry, I'm not goin' soft or nuthin'. I once got a little lecture at the old place that I could cut to the core with my sharp tongue, and I about fell off my chair, considering the lecturer was the KING of tongue-lashings, not to mention, I had been biting mine. Not that I wouldn't love to see the reaction, especially now that I SEEM to be a pacifist. MY ASS. Pacifist of my underpants. Bite my big-ass peace treaty RIGHT HERE, beyotch. So when the lesser person lets loose with their little barbs or observations, I try to just inhale, and remind myself that just because I have a tart sharp tongue does not mean I get to use it, or that it would ultimately further MY interests to do so, and that's really the bottom line.

Some days, though, it's like having a motherfuckin' bazooka mounted on your car and it would only take one little punch of a button to blow the offending car in front of you right out of your way. Yet you don't. Because bazookas are not street legal. Nor, really, is my mouth. This should be filed under "potty-mouth blogging". I'm going to bed now. It's not good to watch the Shield and then blog. I get all Vic Mackey and pit-bullish.