Wednesday, June 22, 2005


I've developed an unusual fondness for swearing of late. I decided, anyone who has earned a [Masters] degree from the School of Hard Knocks, with a major in the Rocky Roads of Life, and a minor in A Series of Unfortunate Events, has the unalienable right to swear to one's content.
I'm not overly fond of the *F* word, but have been known to use it liberally when provoked. What constitutes provocation can vary greatly depending on my mood of the moment. Such nasties as sh**, damn, FU**, son-of-a-bit** have been know to all spill forth from my lady-like [NOT] lips. Just piss me off, then step back and bear witness. Yes, I am well aware that last one is more of an insult to myself than anything else. Pointing that out to me could be construed as being impertinent. Which REALLY pisses me off.
If you have any doubts. Drop by my house sometime when someone has the unmitigated gall to suggest that I, the great, powerful and awesome Wonderfully Wicked-cool Wanda/Mom, does NOT know all that is to be known. Or God forbid to imply that I might be wrong (stubborn, unreasonable,obstinate,difficult,interfering, bossy,ect). Trust me, you DO NOT want to go there. Especially not in the heat of summer.
Actually you probably won't even have to make it to the house. Somewhere in the vacinity of Podunt would probably be sufficent.
The odd thing is, I'm not even in a bad mood today. I'm working hard on that **serenity to accept the things I cannot change**.


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