Because the fun doesn’t end with the day of the initial fuck you, here’s some bonus hate!
Fuck you for the numbness in the entire left side of my face that just magically disappeared like fucking unicorns at around 3:00 yesterday. I woke up this morning to find my jaw halfway to locked on the left from the swelling and a fucking black eye that no amount of makeup was able to hide. Thanks to you, I’ll have to not be seen in public with my husband this week, lest people think the worst of him.
Dear Neighbor’s Crotch Fruit,
I know you’ve been waiting for winter playtime since the last of the snow melted in April, but the icy sidewalk in front of the building is NOT an appropriate place to practice slide tackling your neighbors. Maybe it was bad timing and shitty body awareness on your part, but fuck you anyway for the bruised and bloody elbow and knees, and wet jeans. Why the fuck aren’t you in school today?
Dear Crotch Fruit’s Parent(s),
Why isn’t your little bastard in school?!? Right after your toothless little hockey reject assaulted me in our parking lot, I asked him that very question and do you know what he told me? “Mommy said I don’t have to go.” Fuck you, mommy dumbest- we’ve got truancy laws in this state. Do your kid a favor and send him to that magical place where they teach him not to be an idiot like you: school. It’ll keep your lazy, neglectful ass out of jail, and my patellas will thank you when they’re strong enough to withstand the impact of shoving my foot up your ass.