we were more than the wars of our fathers

I need a punching bag. An actual one. It might help with the arms and it sure as hell would help with the frustration that comes with hating everyone.

I hate it when I have plans that are seriously fucked up because my shithead of a brother manages to go ahead and get his fucking way, everyone else be damned. I don't fucking care that he told someone he'd do something for them by a certain time. He should have woken the fuck up before 1pm to do it, fucker.

It's my day off, damn it. Tomorrow is a fucking waste of a day off because I can't go to the beach and I don't want to grill things anyway. Nothing will be open that I want to go to today.

I hate, hate hate my brother. and I especially hate those people that agree he's a dick to my face and then turn around and hang out with him. I fucking HATE that.

"Yeah, what an asshole." A few days later, "he's not so bad."

HATE.

I fucking hate the way the world revolves around him and he still has the nerve to complain about anything.


... and now I feel better. Thank you.

*hops off to ponder how feasible it is to drag someone kicking and screaming in the truck* If I could only drive that monstrosity...