Saturday, January 28, 2012

Sometimes it feels good to be angry at things you can't control.

Attn:  Cancer.

I am fucking sick of you and your shit.  Leave my mother alone.  Leave my family alone.  Stop hiding in places and then popping out all, "GUESS WHERE I AM NOW?!" No one wants to play with you.  No one likes you.  You have no friends, fans or supporters.  You're such a selfish dickwad that if you were a person, I would already be in jail for doing the most unspeakable, unimaginable things to you that resulted in the most extreme kind of pain.  Go away.  Get on your stupid cancer horse and don't come back.  You may have thought that 10+ years of dangerous chemotherapy and radiation was a polite request that you vacate, so in order to make things absolutely crystal clear, I'm giving you the boot.  Make no mistake about it--you are not welcome and no one will be sorry to see you go.  In fact, we'll throw parties.  There will be cake and YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY.  I hate you so much, I won't even forward your mail.  I'm going to open all of it and cash your birthday checks and then HAVE ANOTHER PARTY WITH CAKE THAT YOU CAN'T HAVE.  Your days of doing bad things to good people are over, you worthless sonofabitch. 

Now, leave before I figure out a way to shrink down and drag your sorry ass out because I guarantee that if I ever find a way to face you, remission will be the least of your worries.

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