Mrs Ms. (…there’s no way anyone on this planet in their right mind could ever possibly marry such a moron. Then again someone married Trump) Cunty-Cutter-in-a-Camry;
Oh hi! ‘Member me?
Oh silly me. Where have my manners gone?! Of course ya don’t Cunty! We haven’t actually been formally introduced! Well.. I know who you are, so that saves us a little time. You’re the fake-blonde Teletubby looking bitch who cut me off at the Starbucks drive-thru this morning!
See that’s all it takes for me to kind of just know you already! Your actions just speak volumes. I don’t even need your name, girl. Betty? Susan (super likely. Fucking Susans..)? Diana? Ruby? It doesn’t matter! Irrelevant! Because you’ll forever just be none other than the Cunty Cutter in a Camry in my heart!
Me? Oh I’m just Ely. And as of this morning, following your shameless act of cuntery, I can officially label myself as an adult. Im a FUCKING adult now! Would you like to know why? Because this morning, I restrained myself from removing my earrings, tying my hair back, gracefully stepping out of my car and pretending to get in legit gangster mode so as to scare the shit out of you with my loud bark and amazing way with words. Oh I don’t fight girl. I would never. My new boobs aren’t covered by insurance, dental work is mad expensive, and hair pulling is just a headache a hair loss that I really just can’t afford right now. My mouth is my greatest weapon. Physical altercations are overrated and so last season honey.
In life, as we grow older we learn that our actions can and will come with consequences. I can pretend to be gangster all I want, like I did once upon a time, but this morning I said to myself what if my act doesn’t work and this cunt whoops my ass? I could be late to work. I could lose my job if I get arrested. WHAT foundation would I use to cover up bruises and what if I get a scar or something? Is she worth it though? one
Cunty, I’m a mom. I bake cake for fuck sake, and help old people for a living. I think my wanna-be thug days are long fucking gone but you seriously tested me this morning. And I passed. I do have self control! I can think before I destroy! I can just breathe and let shit slide off of me and carry on with my day! LOOK MA! NO ATTITUDE!
So I wanted to write this letter as a way of thanking you because really, I couldn’t have gotten to what I considered to be this insurmountable stepping stone that is “adulthood” without you!
Just this past Sunday, I was way-too-cheap-wine-drunk all day and into the evening for my son’s small 7th birthday party. Who gets DRUNK at a child’s birthday party like in broad daylight? Especially when it’s THEIR child’s party and the drunk person in question is the HOST/parent?!
Well me, first of all as fuck.
Mostly because anxiety. Because messes. Because money spent. Because people. Even people I dearly love. It doesn’t even matter. Anxiety doesn’t discriminate. That’s not the point. The point is that I wasn’t an adult just 2 days ago Cunty. I was tipsy and fighting toddlers for candy concealed between sharp blades of grass after the piñata was broken in the front lawn. If it makes you feel any better, I was donating the candy to the babies who couldn’t fend for themselves during the candy rumble.
I digress. Look Paul! I think I used it well! No one else know what is happening. Ok people keep it moving this wasn’t for you.
Let’s cut to the CUT, Cunt. Oh I’m so good I can’t even deal with myself. The line at the Starbucks drive-thru for Coffee was unacceptably long this morning, wasn’t it? I mean. We must be desperate for caffeine, to be willing to sit there for what seemed like ages before one car moved and the rest followed. I remember thinking to myself, fuck this. I can deal without my coffee this morning. And then immediately responding to myself with a Shut up. You’re gonna wait as long as you have to for your fix Ely. You’re an addict. No to coffee is not an option. So you just shut up. Seriously. And there I was.
I’m not sure when or how it actually happened but I clearly fucking remember you NOT being in line and then you came from a different direction on my right side and waited at first, to take your place behind me. Next thing I know, I looked down at my phone for a split second and you legit slammed your dumb foot on the dumb accelerator of your dumb Camry and peeled rubber to cut in front of me. I was right there, you dumb cunt!
Listen it took me a few seconds to process what just happened. I was in a state of disbelief. I couldn’t move. But my first physical response was to pull up right next to you and stare at your dumb Teletubby face until you felt my eyes burning through your windows and penetrating the side of your face like a fucking laser beam. But 5 seconds in and you literally didn’t turn to face your enemy. Coward. You’re lucky. Because I can’t up with at least 65 different ways to ruin your fucking day and or get arrested but you know what? Clearly you’re just a cunt with no sense of respect and you have insecurity written in red all over your Teletubby face.
Also? If you would’ve simply asked if you can cut me I probably would’ve let you go ahead. Cunty, in life you get more with honey then with how does this saying go again? My mom used to preach it to me but half way through I had already muted her voice and walked away. Whatever. You suck at being a human being. You weren’t worth the jail time or being late to work.
I hope your coffee gave you explosive diarrhea. Ya Bimbo.