Newsgroups: alt.slack,alt.foot.fat-free

Subject: Hate Satisfaction

From: nospamum@radix.net (MegaLiz)

Date: Thu, 20 Nov 1997 02:58:42 GMT

 

I was JUST getting ready to complain that nobody complains about me. I

was really getting SICK of all the psychofantics going on here: gee,

Meg yer SWELL! We love you Liz! You're RIGHT, O Megalithic One. GACK.

But then something ELSE happened. I rediscovered my bellyful of hate

thanks to THE BREAD LADY. Too much of the time, I've been holing up

with the pupae, feeling drained from the breast feeding regime (I

should mention that Spider Monkey is a whopping 17 pounds at 4 months

on BREASTMILK) and I've been whipping up nice recipes for dead meat on

the good days. I've been carefully spending time with only those that

I LIKE and it was making me Slack Complacent. When everything is Slack

and everything is Funny, then nothing seems to be terribly Slackful or

Funny anymore.

 

Yesterday was PURE TORTURE. I still can't quite bring myself to pound

it out in detail. So raw from the thing, all I want to do is forget

all about it. I KNEED to forget it. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

 

Don't get excited. No machine guns were involved. The flour, sugar,

plastic bears full of oil, and 154 children were incidental. The

grownups were the real show.

 

At the climax of the afternoon, I could feel every nerve in my body

begin to twang off rhythm with the sea of pinkness, I couldn't breathe

until I managed to forget that my fingers had gone numb. It felt as

though my only choices were to scream at the top of my lungs, "YOU

STUPID FUCKS!!! LET THEM DO WHATEVER THE FUCK THEY WANT TO WITH THE

DOUGH!!! FUCK THIS POKE-N-FOLD BULLSHIT!!! THEY COULD KNEED THIS WITH

THEIR LITTLE ASSES AND GET PERFECTLY GOOD BREAD, YOU IDIOTS!!! CAN'T

YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE MAKING THEM CRAZY???? WHERE'S THE FUCKING *FUN*,

HUH? WHERE'S THE BOBDAMNED FUN IN THIS BREAD DRILL???? THIS IS NOT

*CUTE*!!!!" OR I could have walked out. I had TWO teachers at my

table, who kept shouldering me out of the way to reprimand little

people for not having their plastic knives lined up on the little

lines. FUCK FUCK FUCK THIS.

 

I didn't leave. Instead, I turned to another mommy and said, "If I

took a poke at that teacher, would that make me a bad person?" This

was PLEASANT, because the mommy was really smooth about it, but I know

that it firmed her conviction that I'm NOT RIGHT.

 

It was GOOD that I was there. Sparky blew a fuse. She blew big, but

quietly, in her patented sizzling of frustration. I took her out of

the room and we both calmed down.

 

"I can't do it RIGHT!" she said.

 

"Forget it," I said, "They're telling you the wrong way and they're

going too fast, anyhow. It'll be good bread."

 

When we got back, one of the teachers thanked me for taking care of my

kid.

 

FUCKING PINKS.

 

I was real busy hating myself and wondering HOW I was going to be able

to function with this SCHOOL THING for another EIGHTEEN YEARS until

the Rev plopped next to me and listened to THE WHOLE THING. He never

has much to say at times like these, but whatever he does say is WORTH

IT.

 

"It was awful because you're a SubGenius, that's all," he said.

 

I was suddenly free to REALLY HATE all of THEM. It was beautiful.

 

At least I have my HATE in the right place.

 

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* "Okay! Okay! I'll NEVAH EVAH do it AGAIN!" - The Spunky

alt.foot.fat-free: where you can collect all six Moment Toes