TheBunnyBlog.com - March 6, 2007

I swear to fucking God, if you are my friend, and you're having a crisis, and you need to call me and get therapy, put the fucking phone down and step away. Sweet motherfucking Christ. I know I have this hunger for helping. I know I totally get off on being Miss Fixit, but I'm losing it. I am not a god damned licensed therapist.

And YOU! What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you retarded? I told you what to fucking do, so go out and fucking do it. If you're not going to do what I told you, then why don't you just go off and whine your way to hell. I'm not you're mom who was mean to you; I'm not your dad who flew the coop. I'm not your punching bag, and I am most certainly not responsible for any god damned thing that happens to you, nor any foul mood you stagnate your motionless life into, you fully fucking grown, whiny as shit, self-indulgent men and women.

Is it so god damned hard to process an emotion or two? Is that the end of the fucking world for you? Boo-fucking-hoo. If I was as emotionally lazy as you, I'd be dead. So fuck off.

Phew. That felt really good. I'll call you later.

And now, here's your Maxie fix. I think we can all agree she's, like, the cutest fucking animal ever. Now would not be the time to disagree with me.

Posted by The Bunny at 10:08 PM