The bitter rantings of the recently dumped!

For all of you who have ever experienced that moment where your desire to maintain composure and your need to vent collide in a Harry Potteresque moment. This never to be mailed letter is for you.....and for the fucking losers who hurt you.

Dear emotionally stunted, grammatically challenged, brokeass loser

You know I was really trying to put this "relationship" if you can even call it that, behind me with a little class and dignity, which is more then I can say for you, but fuck it. I have never in my life encountered such a selfish self centered, immature, bastard. I am SOOOO fucking glad that you decided that a smart, sensitive, loyal, giving, sweet, pretty and intelligent girl was not the one for you because it made me realise what a loser I was willing to share all of that with. It would never ever in a million years worked (which people told me in the beginning) because to be completely honest, we are not even close to being in the same league. So I can thank you for that one. Thanks be to GOD that I don't have to waste anymore time, energy OR MONEY on your grammatically incorrect, verbally challenged, dictionary needing ass. And if you don't know the meaning of any of those words…GO FUCKING LOOK THEM UP!

I heard about your little show that you put on Saturday night while you were Djing, and I REALLY hope that you feel proud of yourself. Personally, I am a little embarrassed for you! PDA is one thing, but making out while you are working, is just unprofessional and to be frank…kinda dirty.

Now you might think that all of this ranting comes from a place of jealousy or perhaps that I am not over you. Don't kid, OR flatter yourself my friend. Over you is in my rear-view mirror and pitying you is passing on the right. I regret the fact that one of your own friends warned me about you in the beginning, and I didn't listen. NOW them (note the grammer) are some smart people, and obviously know you better then I ever would, or care to for that matter.

I hope you have a great life.. Riding your 4 wheelers, burning your tires, and making up stupid sounds and words….LEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No loner the bank of Canada

Sexy lips, is sexy in many many ways

As our lives tend to do from time to time, I have recently hit a little pothole. Yes as most of you know, a little relationshippy that I just had, has ended. Among other things, it causes a person to have a bit more time for thinkin'. Pondering (aka obsessing) why it happened, why it didn't, and basically searching for an answer that will never materialise.

In an effort to be a little proactive in the whole "get the fuck over it" thing, I have, predictably been doing lots of reading, and trying to find meaning in things I watch on TV. So, yesterday I happen to catch Oprah...LOL who am I kidding, it was no accident, it's a daily fixture, but whatever that is another issue altogether. This show was perticularly interesting because of its super cool guest. MR sexy lips himself, John Mayer. Now I have heard John Mayer speak before, heard all his genious lyrics, and on occasion commented on what an articulate, deep thinker the dude is. On this occasion, he was particularly ON. His outlook on life is insightful, interesting and gives a person cause to think.

To make a long story short, I went on HIS blog to give it a quick read, and the following post Hit me right between the eyeballs. Yes I realise that this is stealing. BUT Johnny M, please forgive me:-)) I loved you message and want to share it, I feel like you will understand…SO have a read, take a moment, print this story and keep in in your purse…whatever.

"CHANGEI've been thinking about something lately.

Imagine this:You're on an airplane, sleeping with your head against the window, your heart set on being home this time three hours from now. All of a sudden, something goes very wrong. The plane stops moving across the air and instead starts falling through it. The lights are flickering and the movie is skipping. The plane dips hundreds of feet in seconds, and the yellow cups fall from the ceiling. They're a brighter shade of yellow than you remember, because unlike the demonstration, these cups have never been handled before. "Flight attendants take your seats now", you hear, the pilot's voice trembling over a cacophony of alert tones. You get that smell in the bridge of your nose like you've just been hit with a football. That's what the fear smells like. The plane is going down.Four more drastic drops in under a minute. People are crying. For all the folklore about how your life flashes before your eyes, you're remarkably fixed on one vision - your parents. They're sleeping at this very moment, in a bedroom so quiet they can hear the clock in the kitchen. And you can see them, clear as can be. You wish you could see a playground or a first kiss, but all you can see is your parents sleeping. Huh. Well, that's that.Several long minutes go by. Then, all at once, the lights come back on and the plane somehow rights itself. Some people cheer, but most people cry harder. The plane lands about an hour later, and as soon as you feel that touch down - hell, even when you were within 50 feet of the ground and could still technically survive a fall - you realize that however you brokered the deal between you and God worked; you've just been granted life in overtime.Here's the question: what do you change? Whom do you call that you haven't spoken to in years? Whom do you realize has been toxic to your heart and drop with surprising ease? What trips do you cancel, and what trips do you book? What can't you be bothered with anymore? What's the new you like?Think about that, and then ask one more question. Why not just change it all right now?(Working on it...)


Peace OUT

KFC war

** Names have been changed, although not necessarily to protect the innocent

Ok...so as most people know, I live behind a KFC, in fact, my bedroom overlooks their parking lot. From my perch I see a lot of things go on.....things that made me come to the decision that not only will I never EVER eat there, but neither will any of my friends or family. The workers on their breaks coming out smoking their cigarettes, coughing up all kinds of colourful shit and spitting them out on the ground, the delivery whore who goes around with her delivery boyfriend all night, with her little girl in the back seat happily guzzling fountain pop from KFC, and don't even get me started on the bums that live in their dumpsters (although entertaining, not very good for increasing ones appetite).

Well Ladies and Gentlemen, this Tuesday night, my hatred towards the Quinpool KFC establishment and their sub-hygenic staff, came to a new level.

I was on my way to my Tuesday night golf lesson, and as I was walking to my car, I notice a piece of paper, with the following typed on it:
"Your Licence plate has been recorded down for our files.Please do not park your car here, this is for customer parking ONLY. If you Continue to leave your car here, we will have no choice but to have it towed at your expense.
thank you for understanding
KFC Management
**Steve McNuttless"

Now here's a little background, factual info for you all. Since I live behind a KFC, I sort of live in a parking lot...a parking lot that MY landlady owns 3 of the parking spots, and has a contract with the OWNER of the KFC in which she rents those 3 spots out the Grease-Fire-Waiting-to-Happen. But, since this year one of her tenants required the use of a parking spot, she had their contract amended so that they now rent out only 2 of the 3 spots, leaving one for Bug. To make things even better, I am actually parking in the spot that the OWNER of KFC suggested that I park in (the one furtherest away from KFC, and closer to my house).

So, back to the moment I discover this love letter from **Steve McNuttless, I am instantly filled with rage that my enemy has made a move to TOW MY CAR. I storm over to KFC, golf club in hand, and march right in front of the lost souls waiting to EAT the shit they fry up there, and go right up to some retard working the cash:
Amy: "I live in the house behind you, and I just found this note on my car saying that I'm not supposed to be parked there. Now I'd like to speak to a manager"
KFC retarded worker: blank stare "ok"

Now, enter Jennifer, the manager currently on duty.
Amy: "I live in the house behind you, and I found this note on my car saying that I am unable to park in the parking spot. I happen to pay for that parking spot, since my landlady rents 2 of her 3 parking spaces out to this place,and keeps one for me. So, if my car DOES get towed, someone here (and yes, i actually did the finger point to people behind the counter) is going to be held financially responsible."
Jennifer: "I don't know anything about this note, but my district manager (DM) just left and I'll call her and see if she is home. And Steve is our headoffice manager, he was here for like 5 minutes today."

Of course this DM is not home at them time...so Jennifer leaves a message with DM to call her, then Jennifer takes my name and number, and gives me HER name and number...which turns out to be worthless, because I noticed that Jennifer has no pull at her place of employment. I tell Jennifer, that I will be gone until after 8pm, and to have someone return my call after this time.

But no, KFC does not comprehend the concept of time. So I come home from golf saying that DM had called, and told my roommate that my car will be ok. Well DM, that is NOT sufficient enough for me. So, I call Jennifer back (becuase conveniently, DM's number on our phone comes up as 'unknown') and I tell Jennifer that someoen called BEFORE 8pm, and I want to speak to them, so she says she will call DM and tell her to call me back...I wait...and wait...and no call ever comes.

I get up the next morning to my roommate fearfully informing that that the "No Parking" sign I had posted over my parking spot was GONE. So...not only did **Mr. Steve McNuttless leave me a note, he STOLE MY NO PARKING SIGN. That, my friends, is stealing, and I believe, it is against the law. And I want to know...how does this headoffice manager, who is there for 5 minutes, know my car is there all the time....unless one of the workers told him and ratted me out!! And then, this Mr. Bigshot Headoffice Manager, doesn't even bother to look into WHY my car is parked there 7 days a week 24 hours a day??? Perhaps, talk to the OWNER of the store, or someone who doesn't throw out garbage and fucking deep fry crap for $7.50/hr!! Nope....he just gest busy writing notes and stealing signs.

So, you might be wondering "Amy, what do you want from all this??" I'll tell you what I want...I want to talk to **Mr. Steve McNuttless, and I want to yell at him, and tell him WHY I park there, and then when I feel statisfied with my bitchy, yet factual explaination, I want an appology...AND...I want a NEW no parking sign, not delivered to my door, no, I want it HUNG BACK UP where it was!!!

Of all the fast food places to put a note on my car....it couldn't have been nice, clean McDonalds nextdoor...no...it had to be my born enemy KFC....it was a deliberate act of war if you ask me.....and they are going to regret it.

So, this morning, I call **McNuttless...tell him who I am, where I live, and recap the note he left for me.
Steve: "We didn't know that was you, we thought it was someone from across the street who shouldn't be there anyway. I will call and notify the store that the green car is yours and is allowed to park there."
Amy: "There is also the matter of a No Parking sign that I had posted on the fence behind my car, which has been removed."
Steve: "Well, we can probably look into getting another one of those...but we have a lot of vandalism in this area...people going onto our roof and spray painting our signs (which I watched two punks do about two weeks ago!!!), spray paint the fence, so it very well could have been them. But I'll call the store and notify them, and feel free DEAR to go over and introduce yourself, we are neighbors! And then maybe we can avoid another embarassing situation."

Well Steve....I'm not embarrassed....and I did introduce myself, with my golf club in hand, in a minor fit of rage, so I'm PRETTY sure they'll remember me.

Now lets see how long before I get a new No Parking sign.

I've won this battle KFC.....but I doubt the war is over.

(Side note: As I'm typing this, there is a KFC worker out there with cigarette hanging out of his mouth, moving plastic boxes around, and throwing things in the garbage....and it looks like he did not shower today at all...or possibly even this week.)