Originally posted on myspace: November 12, 2006 - Sunday
People I Want to Kill, Vol. 1
Current mood: pissed off
So here's the deal:
I've noticed that my increasing tendency to lean toward the "agro" has disabled me to the point of actual illness. Recent diagnosis? Vertigo. Brought on by stress. I'm not lying. I'm fucking serious. I went to the doctor and everything.
It sucks. It's no fun. Oh fucking well.
So I've decided to compile a list of people I would like to kill, in the hopes that my vertigo will not make so many "visits", shall we say, and disrupt my already hectic life. It will not be an every day thing. Or even an every week thing. And there's usually only one person I would like to see wiped off the earth at a time, so stay tuned and maybe, just maybe, if you feel like killing someone, you can live vicariously through my imagination. This way, we all stay out of jail and we get to vent and, hopefully, feel a little better? Yes?
Let us begin:
For this volume of "People I Want to Kill, Vol. 1", I would so love to carve out the heart of my Contemporary Interior Architecture History and Theories Instructor with a dull, rusty spoon.
Long story short. She's a fucking idiot. I hate her. She makes, not only MY life, but the lives of others in my class, a living hell. I want to say "FUCK YOU" to this bitch as the utensil I stated earlier breaks through the skin and laugh maniacly as I hack away at the breast plate in order to get to the heart. Shit, I don't even know if the bitch has one.... she definitely doesn't have a fucking brain. I won't go into the ins and outs of why I hate her so badly but let's just say this:
This bitch shouldn't be teaching this class. She doesn't know what the fuck she's doing. I am more confused now as we enter the final weeks of class than I was at the beginning of the semester. I'm surprised she's still getting a paycheck. She knows nothing of Theory OR Architecture, let alone Interior Architecture Theory, WHICH THIS CLASS IS ALL ABOUT, and fuck, she DEFINITELY doesn't know how to teach it. Like I said, she's a fucking idiot.
I am preparing a spoon just for this occasion.
If she makes the list a second time, which she may since she's been the main reason for my discontent, panic attacks and vertigo, I'm beating her with a dismembered arm. Preferably her own.
Maybe I'll cut it off with the spoon.
Until next time...