Most Forgiven Posts
Here is a selection of the Most Forgiven posts.
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I really have to rant. It’s keeping me up. I mean to offend no-one. So working in retail, and I don’t know if it’s my experience in Leicester that might be bias, considering it’s multicultural circumstance, but 90% of those of Indian descent think they are an exception to the rules of social etiquette. Why do they think they can bring 10 items to the till and then say ‘oh I don’t want those 9 anymore’ and leave all their crap with me. Or ‘this one has been out on the shop floor;give me a
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That freckly-assed son of a bitch has just damn near shoved me over the brink. There I was, just cruisin’ along, minding my own goddamn business. All of a sudden, I get a letter in the mail from my health insurance company. They are going to cancel my insurance policy, which I was payin’ $430 bucks a month for. That covered me, the old lady, and a pair of youngsters that turned up over the years. It was just the right amount of insurance for my taste. It would have kept me out of bankruptcy if
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I am in highschool, it blows. On that note I came to this site not so much to rant but rather to empty some of my ideas, so get ready to hear a teenager bitch on the internet because here we go.
I understand that many of my peers will form groups that constitute as cliques and while some people think it is “cool” to be a part of a clique it appears to me that it’s even “cooler” to be a nonconformist, you know the type normally intelligent, conceptually independent, and full of good ideas. Now
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My husband hasn’t had a day off in three or four weeks. His boss is breaking all sorts of labor laws, making him “full time” so he can pay him a salary that, when divided by the hour, is less than minimum wage. He doesn’t get paid for overtime. Doesn’t get paid for shit. And my husband won’t complain, because he’s convinced he’s unemployable… It is bad enough when rich assholes think that falling out of a rich vagina makes them better than the rest of the world, but when the people who are
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a lot of things to say. a lot of things to be done but nothing is happening. i always feel alone even though they are there. a lot of people love me but i don’t feel anything. i’m damaged. i’m broken… and still breaking down.
i made a name for myself and it’s been successful. many people admired what i did… some hated it… i really don’t care.
i’m jealous of kids playing without a care in the world…. and making worlds of their own. their own world to live in and be happy. i once had a world
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I asked her to pay my phone bill since I had to work 12 hr shifts for 10 days. She didn’t and my phone was cut off. She wondered why it was cut off and what I was hiding from her. She said she wanted to go pay with with me…at 1AM. She always says “I’m a night owl, La Vampira!” And can’t understand why places close at 8, 9, or 10 pm and complains that nothing she likes is open. The best part was she wanted to go to Universal Studios and she got there when it closed and demanded to speak to the
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I come onto this ranting site, wanting to rant out all my trouble and confessions. but with each paragraph I write, i end up deleting. I wanna say everything that is in my mind. things that hurts me and pisses me off. but its just too much to write. the words sound so much better in my head compared to when i write it down. i wish there was a way to transfer my thoughts onto the screen right here. lets just say, i feel betrayed, hurt, sad, disgusted, pissed off, annoyed and irritated of my life
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I despise men’s clothes especially pants and T-shirts. There are some male short- Short pants for running/jogging of course. But they are not my stuff because they expose hideous leg muscles and hairs. I think no country but Myanmar sells skirts for men ;/ Sadly men must wear very long pants or short pants with very awkward length because of their bulged “limbs”, hideous leg muscles and hairs. And that bulged “limbs” make exposure of every underwear very hideous. In other words being a dude
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I’m not sure if the title matches my real reason for rage but it such is a big part. Although this is petty shit compared to other stories. I hate that I can’t express my feelings but my friend can. She gets butthurt SOO much. She got incredibly mad over a tiny silly joke of a shipping our friends and I admit mostly I made with her and this guy. Originally she shipped me with him but I didn’t want it to stay with me for a long time and for her to keep yelling out in class with his ugly face
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years of internalized stress abuse and uncaring bubble out. saddly i have no one to really share with. telling people usually frees u from what haunts u. buttt really most of this shit is old news and everybody knows. :(. just part of process of moving on i gues. hope it’s over soon.
If I’d had only one word of encouragement from you, I might have become a photographer. Instead you said it was stupid, and I believed you and now my camera gathers dust rather than images. One word of support from you and I might be published right now, instead I question every word and wonder if it’s good enough. I wonder if I’m good enough. Obviously I have nothing worth saying, or you wouldn’t talk over me or dismiss everything I say. Every time you say, “I don’t care,” it chips away a
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You meet someone. You befriend them. You may not talk to them much at first, but out of nowhere, it’s like they’re your best friend. You and this person are closer than ever. Then, BAM two weeks later, it’s like you never existed to them. This happens to me on an almost monthly basis. There’s a reason why I don’t have many friends and a reason why I choose not to make many friends and this is why. They see that all I want is someone to talk to, they take advantage for a few weeks to empty out
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I work for a small, privately owned ambulance company. I’m a nationally registered EMT. We transport a lot of patients by ambulance to and from doctor appointments, dialysis, etc. The thing is, Medicare and Medicaid will not pay for those transports if the patient does not meet stretcher requirements, meaning they are not bed confined and could otherwise be transported by wheelchair. We went to transport one patient one day and once I got on scene I evaluated the patient. History of CVA
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It’s always circle jerk time for Chucah the Clown! It loves to sit around in the past, crying over how jealous it is that it hasn’t ever done anything interesting or original in it’s life, weeping for it’s own irrelevance. Just a man child and his puppet, jerking each other’s wieners because it’s too sad to talk to a human. Pot portly Chucah. One day you might become human, but first you must open your eyes and allow yourself up feel in the moment.
You are not Mexican. You are not Cajun. You are definitely not Indian. You are not anything but FAT. Being fat does not make you a part of any interesting ethnic group. If you think Cinco de Mayo is called Sincko del Myo or that Dia de Los Muertos is called Dias de la Muertes, you do not get to call yourself Mexican. As a Mexican, I’m appealed that you’d consider yourself one of us.
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