The USPS can fuck off with prejudice. Seriously, if your posted hours state that you open at 8:30, then answer your goddamned phone at 8:40. And if you don't, don't leave the fucking "we're closed" message on your machine. And clear your fucking voicemail so I can leave a fucking message, you goddamned ass-weasels.
To the "mother" driving at ten miles under the speed limit, texting with one hand and smoking with the other while your curly-headed toddler was flapping her arms above her car seat in the back...I hope you realize you're directly harming your baby girl and putting her in imminent danger through your own white-trash habits. And by so doing, dooming the child to a life of poverty, sponging off the government, and being a generational problem and drain on my children's resources. Fuck off and die alone in a fiery car crash before she's old enough to remember you, so that she has a chance at a productive, happy life.
This sinus headache that snuck up on me while I was grading last chance essays can fuck right off. Ouch.
I can fuck off for attempting to scale back on the amount of naproxin I take. OUCH. I really can't afford to feel like this right now.
This was my week. How was yours?
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