Lecherous Witch of the Darkest Kind

 

Want to know something good?

Something good.

Want to know something even better? 

You’re getting two presents from us today:

1. A brand new pile of tripe from our email in-box
2. Input from me AND Brass Knuckles

Here’s the tripe:

Hello itty bitty and Brass Knuckles,

This past year my husband and I divorced, and I have had money problems, moved to a new town and started a new job.  At my new job I became friends with one of my coworkers right away.  We have done things like go to lunch and movies.  It turns out she’s in a horrible marriage and has lots of money problems.  Instead of dealing with that she seems to think I’m some sort of ‘fixer-upper’ project and won’t leave me alone.  She’s always bringing up everything I just went through and acting like I’m still depressed.  But I am not depressed and have moved on.  I’ve told her to back off but she’s a complete bitch about it.

What should I do?

Thank you,

No Boundaries

Hi No Boundaries,

 Do you know what Brass Knuckles’ weapon of choice is?  Of course you do, you fucking genius; a pair of brass knuckles.  Do you know what she drinks her coffee out of every morning?  Of course you do, you fucking genius; a pair of brass knuckles.  

Do you know what that means?  That means Brass Knuckles likes to pass out broken noses and concussions first thing in the morning just to get her day started right.

When Brass Knuckles read your tripe she said,

1. You already know what to do.
2. Drop the bitch
3. Pull the plug

My response?  I could not agree more that this is exactly what someone should have told your co-worker friend when you started buddying up to her at work.  You remember that, don’t you?  The way you went slinking into that new town and that new job wearing your divorce and financial problems on your sleeve.  The way you could have made friends with any one of your new co-workers and chose the one who was most likely to take care of a pitiful wretch.  The way you invited her to lunches and movies. 

Oh?  It was the other way around?  She was the one who invited you?  Well that changes the whole thing around now doesn’t it?  Not really.  You still went with her when she did the inviting and have spent at least enough time with her to end up calling her your friend.

And now your focus is all about how much you’ve moved on and she’s dragging you down.  Have you ever even bothered to tell her how much better you are feeling?  How you got there?  What tools you used to move from A to B?  Of course you haven’t, No Boundaries.  You’re too busy being what is called a ‘Fair Weather Friend’.  No.  That’s too kind.  You’re too busy being a lecherous witch of the darkest kind and trying to get rid of someone who seems to have been a good friend to you.  You, who showed up in a new town, at a new place of work and reeling from a divorce and financial problems.   

 

Yes, she may be a whiner who has no interest in working on her own problems.  She may very well be a leech who thrives off of the drama of others.  But you wouldn’t know because you’ve never asked.  If you dig in with her as deeply and compassionately as she dug in with you and only discover no interest in change on the other end, follow the advice of Brass Knuckles,  

1. You already know what to do.
2. Drop the bitch
3. Pull the plug  

Until then, get off your fucking ass and try.  Try as hard for her as she tried for you.  If you don’t?  If you don’t I am going to wake Brass Knuckles up one day and give her no coffee.  And then I am going to give her your address.  I assure you, if that happens you will be given a whole new meaning of ‘No Boundaries’.

2.3 Brain Cells

Please, someone tell me, how is it we actually have to have some of these conversations?  Fuck.

Dear itty bitty and Brass Knuckles,

We are BFF’s and are writing to have you settle an argument.  One of us is dating a really good guy who has two little kids from his past marriage.  He sees them on the schedule he and his ex-wife set up.  He will also see them extra if his ex-wife asks him to — even if he has to cancel a date to do so.  One of us thinks it is a great thing that he will cancel a date to see his kids.  The other one thinks it is very selfish. 

Who is right?

Sincerely,

Buffy and Buffy

Dear Buffy and Buffy,

Do you know I’m all about clarity?  You know, that thing where mature people mean what they say and say what they mean.

Let me give you an example:

That  Buffy and Buffy shit is so stupid that it caused me to wonder if, together, you posess enough brain cells to accomplish the complicated task of chewing food.  It makes me want to summon up the willingness to stop Christmas shopping immediately so I can create a scheme to have you both removed from society. 

That, Buffy and Buffy, is perfect clarity about how stupid I think that Buffy and Buffy shit is.

Some assumptions:

1. You failed at least 2 high school classes or 6 college courses together
2. You still frequent the bar you were frequenting 10 years ago
3. You have fucked, at the very least, seven of the same guys
4. You think ‘BFF’ means ‘Best Fuckin’ Friends’
5. You write notes to one another in a code language that, because you are both so stupid, took you 4 years to create
6. Neither one of you can remember enough of your code language to actually know what the other one is talking about 75% of the time
7. The Buffy who is not dating the guy with kids has her crooked little fingers crossed in hopes that the other Buffy breaks up with him so she can fuck his brains out

Let’s keep moving forward, shall we?

1. If you want a ‘really good guy who has two little kids’ to see when ever you want, break up with him.  You’ll save yourself the trouble of having to use your 2.3 brain cells to figure out why he calls you a selfish bitch and kicks you directly out of his life.
2. If you want a ‘really good guy’ who gets it that his young children are irreplaceable and nasty, gravity laden asses like ‘Buffy’s' are a dime a dozen, stay with him.
3. Don’t worry your very empty heads about #2.  My guess is that whichever ‘Buffy’ is dating the ‘really good guy’ has already bitched and complained enough about him spending time with his kids that #1 is going to happen before Christmas.

The good news?  He might just be ‘really good guy’ enough to fuck the remaining Buffy and you two would have another shared experience to write notes to each other about.

Perfect Hysteria & A Horribly Ugly Holiday Dress

Just when I was ready to believe in families sitting around their holiday tree and enjoying peace, love and understanding together, a note about perfection (nasty, ugly perfection) showed up in our mailbox

itty bitty and Brass Knuckles:

Blaaaggh!  I cannot believe I am sending an email to complain about my family during the holidays.  What a boring topic.  But I don’t know how to have a sense of humor about how crazy they are.  They are hysterical people about everything.  It’s all a competition.  A few examples of this – a) My youngest cousins are eight and eleven.  They get threatened so much about being perfect before the family gatherings that they are little statues who are afraid to move.  Last year the eight-year-old spilled a glass of water and was hysterical because he thought he’d ruined everything.  I felt so sorry for him.  b) All of my Aunts end up running all over each other in the kitchen trying to out-clean and out-cook each other and not hearing anything the other one says because they’re always interrupting each other with stories about how perfect their kids are.

I end up getting so stressed out with all of the perfection that I always end up alienating myself by blurting out inappropriate things or telling someone to ‘take a fucking chill pill’.

The need to be perfect is exhausting and I want to have a sense of humor about it.  How?

From:  Stressed by Perfection

Dear Stressed,

Do you know what one of the definitions is for the word perfect?

The soundness and the excellence of every part, element or quality of a thing frequently as an unattainable or theoretical state.

Do you know what would be happening right now if your special little itty bitty had a heart?  I would cry over that exact definition being applied to the human form.  I would cry even harder, start blurting out cuss words, and hurling breakable objects across the room over this definition being applied to a human form that is eight or eleven-years-old.

When applied to the human form, especially one that is young, perfect is nothing short of awful, painful, destructive, cruel, debilitating, ugly, mean and simply very, very wrong.

We humans are messy.  As we attempt to find our way we are more often than not the epitome of words such as floundering, wandering, off course, attempting, failing, falling down and blabbering.  But you already know all of this, don’t you.

Have you ever heard that saying,

If one of your fingers is pointing at someone else, there are four fingers pointing back at you.

In case you are wondering, Stressed, me typing that phrase about finger pointing is the part where this whole conversation turned a corner and  itty bitty started taking  your sorry ass to school. 

I like you Stressed.  I really, really do.  I like anybody who has compassion for some eight-year-old kid who is driven to hysteria by his/her parent’s drive for perfection.  I admire a person who recoils at empty, competitive conversations about who has the best kid.

However, you have four fingers pointing back at yourself and I suspect you know it.  To be fair, when talk of perfection and competition abounds, it is easy to take it in, judge it as shallow, throw it aside, and walk away.  The operative word here is, of course, easy.  But your email did not say you are looking for easy.  It said you are looking for humor.

In my observations of humor in stressful situations, it is normally those who have first found compassion who are most often able to relax and have a good laugh.

Questions I asked as I read your email:

1. Does Stressed have compassion for those competitive Aunts, or simply judgment and disgust?  Does s/he understand how genuinely painful a belief in human perfection can be for a person?
2. Is Stressed willing and able to plan, organize and manage fun events for the young cousins during the holidays?  What would the other adults think of having the kids out of their hair for a good portion of the day because they were playing board games, cards, Charades, etc…with a responsible adult?  Is Stressed willing to be that responsible adult?
3. Does Stressed realize s/he may very well be guilty of expecting perfection as well?  That s/he may indeed be expecting perfect relaxation out of people who may not be capable of it?

And don’t think I missed this, Stressed:

I end up getting so stressed out with all of the perfection that I always end up alienating myself by blurting out inappropriate things or telling someone to ‘take a fucking chill pill’.

That makes you sound like a pyromaniac throwing gasoline on a fire; simply adding negative energy to a situation that sounds negative enough as it is.  Knock it off, get busy planning fun things for the kids now, and next time you see one of your Aunts see if you can’t look at her through eyes of compassion rather than judgment and an expectation of perfection.

I also want you to know I better not find out your family looks like a bunch of perfectionists to you because you are actually a scurrulious dog who has been taking the messiness of being a human being to the point of leeching off of or emotionally blackmailing them to get them to clean up your mess.  If that turns out to be the case I will personally make you wear a horribly uncomfortable, ugly and stupid holiday dress and make you practice getting perfect posture by walking around in my living room with a book on your head.

Don’t make me do it, Stressed.  You have no idea how ugly it will be if I have to take time away from making my perfect holiday candy just to torture your sorry ass.