It is taking every last bit of me to not fill this post with R rated language and NC-17 rated imagery, but I have decided to refrain from starting the morning off in this manner. Let’s just say, people should try hard to hold their bowels until they are (at the very least) outdoors. The bus driver at 8.15 a.m. needs to go back to driving school. And the woman who thought I was checking out the ass of the other girl in front of me should not shake her head in disgust and utter words like, “Fag” and “Sinner” under her breath. It’s not my fault your ass is lumpy, you’re unattractive, you smoke generic cigarettes, you drink Yoo-hoo to wash down your Entenmanns snack cakes and you’re a homophobic bitch whose only taste of sex are those steamy nights you put on your Frederick’s of Hollywood and your husband has a little foreplay with his Pay Per View and he jerks off beneath his one true love—the Direct TV satellite dish. I wish I could sit you down and have a talk with you, I would tell you how ignorant you are and that your daughter and your son are both gay and it’s all your fault. What are ten commandments? It’s been a long time. Isn’t one of them
Thou shall not judge?
I feel angry. I don’t want to be angry. I must settle down. I will drink my coffee and shut up.
Mihow 
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