I couldn't agree more.I shall die as I lived. Calling someone a cunt.
Stop doing that!
Seriously, it's like one of the few words I can't stand.
I couldn't agree more.I shall die as I lived. Calling someone a cunt.
Stop doing that!
Seriously, it's like one of the few words I can't stand.
I shall die as I lived. Calling someone a cunt.
Stop doing that!
Seriously, it's like one of the few words I can't stand.
Oh, the myriad ways in which this can be taken...
Since my boy is a handicapped child who needs full attention, it simply means that I will die the day he dies, or no longer needs me. Living without him is not an option.
Speaking as a former handicapped child (and current handicapped person), I can sympathize. I had a similar relationship with my mom. Only, she's been gone for six years now and I'm still around. Doing fine, for the most part, thanks to the love of a good woman, but I still miss mom. I still feel like she went before I was done needing her.
It'll probably go something like this:
Kommander: "That ass hole is really starting to piss me off."
JuanBolio: "What ass hole?"
Kommander: "That big, hairy guy over by the cooler. Aw, dammit, he's eating the steak. I was going to eat that steak for breakfast. That's it, I'm going over there..."
Juanbolio: "I wouldn't do that, dude."
Kommander: "Why not? He's eating my food like he fucking owns the place. Dammit, now he's eating the brats!"
JuanBolio: "Umm... that's not a guy, that's a grisly bear."
Kommander: "Grisly Bear? What hind of name is that? Is he a biker or something?"
JuanBolio: "No, it's an actual fucking bear."
Kommander: "I don't care about his sexual orientation, he's fucking with my stuff, and I should kick his ass."
JuanBolio: "Why do I hang out with you? It's a FUCKING BEAR! As in, the animal. You know, bears, they shit in the woods and steal picnic baskets... they love honey... number one threat to America, those bears."
Kommander: "OOOhhhhh... what the fuck is a grisly bear doing at the bar?"
JuanBolio: "We're not at the bar, we're out in the woods, camping."
Kommander: "Ok, Mr. I've-Got-a-Handle-on-Things, explain this: If we're not at the bar, then why am I drunk?"
JuanBolio: "Because you decided to demonstrate your amazing ability to chug beer... 20 times."
Kommander: "Ok, whatever. I'm still going to kick his ass. It'll be fun."
JuanBolio: "Yeah, ok. Now that I think about it, this'll be pretty funny. Oh, you better give me that can of bear mace before you do it. That's stuff just makes them horny."
Kommander: "Good thinking. Here you go."
JuanBolio: "When the bear kills you, can I have all your stuff?"
Kommander: "For the last time, no!"
Since my boy is a handicapped child who needs full attention, it simply means that I will die the day he dies, or no longer needs me. Living without him is not an option.
Speaking as a former handicapped child (and current handicapped person), I can sympathize. I had a similar relationship with my mom. Only, she's been gone for six years now and I'm still around. Doing fine, for the most part, thanks to the love of a good woman, but I still miss mom. I still feel like she went before I was done needing her.
One always need eachother, but eventually in different ways. But im sure your mother would be proud of how well you are doing on your own now. If she was anything like me, that would be the most important thing. We love our children, unconditionally.
I shall die as I lived. Calling someone a cunt.
Stop doing that!
Seriously, it's like one of the few words I can't stand.
You can always take matters into your own hands and force death to come on your terms. *shrugs*I shall die as I lived. Calling someone a cunt.
Stop doing that!
Seriously, it's like one of the few words I can't stand.
Flagius - I think you just found out the who as well as the why.
Statistically I can make some guesses as to how I'll die, but the Reaper has a way of making his work enjoyable, so I'm not going to make any bets on the matter.
Plus, the bastard stacks the deck.
You can always take matters into your own hands and force death to come on your terms. *shrugs*Statistically I can make some guesses as to how I'll die, but the Reaper has a way of making his work enjoyable, so I'm not going to make any bets on the matter.
Plus, the bastard stacks the deck.
The acid in my stomach will kill me.
If I don't stop feeling the way I do right now?.... fairly soon by my own hand.![]()
You keep saying stuff like this. Are you seeking help from anyone in the real world?
It's worrisome. You really need to seek help.
We use essential cookies to make this site work, and optional cookies to enhance your experience.