Merry %$@!*#& Christmas, Whore of the Devil

>>> WARNING<<<



This is a Phred tirade. If you are sensitive to colorful vocabulary or harsh sentiments, proceed with extreme caution. Repeat, this is a Phred tirade*.

*Phred tirades may cause heart palpitations, blindness, bleeding eye sockets and ears, brain lacerations and increases in blood pressure. Please consult your physician before enjoying a Phred tirade. Phred tirades are especially hard on Aunt Kracky's and Mothers. Again, proceed with caution.



>>>END WARNING<<<



So...I had a festive day yesterday with my Mom and Dad. We did some shoe shopping for Mom and tied up some loose crimmus present ends after a nice lunch. It was so wonderful to see them laugh and enjoy themselves after losing my brother Dillon only a few days ago (I say brother even though he was a Lhasa apso because he was definitely their kid and not a pet.) We were even put in a genuine holiday spirit when we stopped in at the Mall Starbucks and ordered a round of Lattes only to find that a local pastor had come in the morning and paid Starbucks 300 dollars to treat as many customers for Christmas as it would handle. That gesture made me warm and fuzzy and I really felt christmassy for a change. We are all e-mailing that church to thank them for being so human and in the spirit of the season. So, all-in-all I had a great day.


After Myshe got home we ran to pick up a couple presents from some shops and a pair of boxes to ship some of my baked goods to friends. We went to Michael's Crafts which we'd visited a lot already this season. We'd eyed this wreath while in there a couple times before and I’d mentioned how pretty it was, but it was nearly 50 bucks so I wasn't feeling the price tag.


Myshe saw a sign stating that all silk flower arrangements were 50% off. I assumed it excluded wreaths, but Myshe pointed out that the sign was hanging off a display of wreaths. I asked and surprisingly they were half price after all! My spirit was getting even better. before long I’d be completely possessed by holidays and wearing felt reindeer antlers with bells and singing carols.


Myshe and I looked over the rest of the wreaths, but already pretty much knew we were getting that one with the pretty burgundy grapes, golden leaves and pine cones and the gorgeous maroon and gold bow. I tried to reach the wreath, but being only 2' 3" It was out of my reach. I began to walk to the register as Myshe asked if I couldn't reach it and began tom swat at it herself. I commented that she wouldn't be able to reach it if I couldn't and that I'd just get someone at the register to get it down for us. As I was telling her this I had to excuse myself past this woman with a buggy who was looking at and listening to us as she perused an end cap. I weaved around a display to get out of her way and she bee-lined to a register ahead of me.


I thought nothing of it.


So I'm standing in line and the douche bag..er, woman (The tirade is desperately trying to come through too early) gestures to the wall and mutters something to the cashier who leaves to retrieve a hook for getting high items off the wall. The employee heads directly to our patch of wall and asks the woman "Which one?". Satan's slut pointed to the wall and indicated our wreath!


I said "You're kidding me." as the cashier returned and they both looked at me. I painfully tried to smile and said "That's the one we were coming over here to get." The little evil Christmas Killer looked at me blankly and said "Oh really?" I narrowed my eyes at her KNOWING she knew and said "Yes, you were standing there watching us try to reach it and heard us talking about getting it down." This fucking cunt just looked at me dryly with her wrinkled expression of pure, unadulterated bitch-assness and said "Oh. I thought you were just looking at it." then proceeds to turn back to the cashier and buy it anyhow!


I was beside myself in awe of how this fucking bitch could simply knowingly commit such a heinous wreath ganking during the wonderful fucking holidays that I was, until that precise moment, beginning to fucking like again! She WATCHED us try to get it. And she LISTENED to us talk about having it taken down. And then the little cock goblin raced to a register to get the fucking jump on us! BITCH!!!! You fucking BITCH!


As far as I was concerned, she might as well have impaled the little baby Jesus, beat Mary, framed Joseph for rape, sicked the INS on the three wise men and torched the damn manger! I was seeing red. I felt it brimming in me and all i wanted to do was push past her leathery hanging jowl and crush her fucking neck with my bare hands until I felt her blood pour down my arms. I would be smiling the entire time, mind you.


Not once did she say "I'm sorry about the mix-up." Because why? The twat wasn't.

Not once did the look at us once again. Why? Because the Nut-wart KNEW what she'd done and had no fucking heart.

I guarantee she was the bitter, frigid, ball-busting wife of some haggard old doctor whose kids are eight shades of fucked up because of their upbringing. I'd put money on this bitch and her whole family being the poster children for Webster's entry for the word Dysfunctional. But you know what? At least they’d have a fucking nice wreath on their door in the picture. BITCH!!!


All night and into today I have been tense thinking about this act. Why does it bother me so much? I have no idea. It shouldn't. I should simply pity her for being such a smack-nasty dog-fart of a whore, but I simply can't get past it. I wonder what Maya would do...






"I would use my molecular transformation to change into some horrid beast and FUCK HER SHIT SIDEWAYS, DOG. YOU FEEL ME?"


I'm so with you Maya.

So, my holiday cheer is shot to Hell in a pink El Camino driven by Sara Michelle Gellar with Chamillionaire playing on the radio. I still wish the world Peace, Love and Cheer and I'd buy everyone a coke if I could. For me though? What do I want for Christmas? Ignore the list I've talked about until now. All I want is to bust a cap in that fuck-monkey's eye hole while nailing her to that fucking, albeit beautifully done, wreath. Please Santa, come through on this one.