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Ever been run over by a Mack truck?

Posted by Anntichrist S Coulter on October 25, 2011 – 11:21 pm

I HAVE!!!!!!

Seriously.

And Dr. JOLLY (I shit y’all not, that’s the pussy-assed “doctor” drug-dealer’s name!!!) OWES ME FIFTEEN DOLLARS IN WASTED FUCKING GASOLINE FOR AN UTTERLY POINTLESS FUCKING APPOINTMENT THAT DID ME ***NO*** FUCKING GOOD, as I STILL have to go through the circle-jerk fuck-over of EVEN MORE WEEKS WITHOUT THE PAIN MEDS THAT I NEED TO FUCKING GET UP AND FUCKING FUNCTION, as well as, y’know, being able to LIE IN A FUCKING BED whilst awaiting the gracious gift of suburbanite nouveau-riche trailer-trash allowing me to go to their strip-mall offices to TRY and get my fucking MEDS until I can find the neurosurgeon who can FINALLY END MY FUCKING SUFFERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In the mean time, somebody PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING PLEASE BLOW MY MOTHERFUCKING BRAINS OUT, because I am in 10X worse pain, EVERYWHERE IN MY FUCKING BODY, INCLUDING MY FUCKING FEET, than even my WORST previous spine-shattering WRECKS.

Dr. JOLLY also owes me two solid-steel GMC pickup bumpers, an a/c system (might as well get SOMETHING out of this much pain!!!), a fucking DECADE OFF OF MY LIFE, and the opportunity to INFLICT THE POINTLESS, UNFAIR AND SADISTIC PAIN UPON HIS DELICATE GINGER-BROWN ASS THAT IS CURRENTLY BEING VISITED UPON EVERYTHING BUT MY FUCKING HAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And yes, of course, the hoopty rusty vomit-green Mack short-bed dumptruck HIT-AND-RAN, and as he did NOT have the LEGALLY REQUIRED front license plate, I didn’t even get his fucking tag #s, and the relatively polite & efficient State Trooper (granted, compared to Jefferson Parish S.O. deputies and NOPD, a fucking BANANA SLUG is EFFICIENT and COMPASSIONATE!!!!) couldn’t tell me a fucking THING to do about CATCHING THAT SCUMBAG MOTHERFUCKER WHO SHOVED MY STOCK-STILL, FOOT-ON-BRAKES TRUCK INTO THE SHINY NEW RENTAL CAR WHOSE FIBERGLAS FUCKING FRAME WAS BARELY FUCKING SCRATCHED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If there were ANY justice in the universe, the chickenshit jack-leg, most likely UNLICENSED gravel-hauler would have fucking KILLED me in ONE FELL FUCKING SWOOP, rather than subjecting me to illiterate fucking SKANKS @ the world’s shittiest Walgreen’s (the loss of K&B Drugs & Store-Brand Liquor ain’t the only pre-K casualty that further reduced the quality of life in NOLA), racist, ignorant, BARELY-PUBESCENT CHILDREN WHO HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN FUCK UP MY LIFE (I got the LAST BITCH FIRED, so it ain’t looking good for Little Miss PUNKY-COLORS who DELIBERATELY mispronounces my name, REPEATEDLY)I was nearly fucking KILLED by a literal fucking MACK FUCKING TRUCK, and the stupid twunt and the drunkard of a “pharmacist” cannot wrap their tiny little brains around the concept of TULANE’S EMERGENCY ROOM AND EMERGENCY PAIN & MUSCLE-RELAXER SCRIPTS FOR THE BITCH WHO’S DRIVING-UP WITH AN ICEPACK STRAPPED AROUND HER NECK AND HORRID STREAKS OF SIX HOURS OF AGONY-INDUCED TEARS CARVED INTO HER EMACIATED FACE!!!!!!

I need a new pharmacy, a time machine to go back to when New Orleans was still fucking CIVILIZED and pretty damned near CULTURED, the nearly-impossible-to-find-or-attain concept of CONTINUITY OF CARE, a MATURE, FULLY-QUALIFIED, OVER-26-AGED DRUG-DEALER “PAIN-MANAGEMENT” ACTUAL ***DOCTOR*** until the neurosurgeons can FINALLY, ONCE AND FOR FUCKING ALL, PERMANENTLY ******FIX****** MY OFT-BROKEN LUMBAR AND CERVICAL/NECK SPINE so that I NEVER, ***EVER***, EVER HAVE TO TAKE THESE POISONOUS FUCKING DRUGS EVER THE FUCK AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And I want to live in an NOPD district (I.E., NOT the FIFTH!!!!!!) where the male-menopause-tight-uniforms-and-gay-gym-glove-attired cops actually fucking SHOW ***UP*** WHEN I HAVE TO CALL ***911***, when I NEVER call, except when DRUG-DEALING GANGS ARE BREAKING-INTO MY APARTMENT while I happen to be HOME, or when I’m being PHYSICALLY-ASSAULTED BY SEVEN DISEASED, SCHIZOPHRENIC, CRACKED-OUT PSYCHOTIC FUCKING HOOKERS IN MY OWN FUCKING ****DRIVEWAY****!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Rather than, y’know, some old prig in GRANNY GLASSES, REFUSING ME A FUCKING AMBULANCE ***OR*** A POLICE REPORT BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING MULTIPLE ASSAULTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I quote:  I’ll be keeping an EVE on The Situation, and  THEN I’ll decide WHO GETS TO PRESS ***CHARGES***!!!”

As per the usual, I shit y’all not.  5th doesn’t show up unless there’s already a cold body or a well-paying detail gig @ Winn-Dixie where they can attempt to assert their so-called “manhood” by DELIBERATELY AND CHILDISHLY ABUSING & DISRESPECTING A DISABLED CUSTOMER B/C HE WON’T GET OFF OF HIS ASS AND WRITE A SINGLE TICKET FOR THE MULTIPLE scumbags parked in MY fucking HANDICAPPED SPACES.  THAT little darling’s name was “W. GANT,” though I didn’t get his badge number.  Do I fear retribution from the biggest southern mafia since Carlos Marcella died? Nope.  They might disappear me into O.P.P., but if they killed me, SOMEBODY might draw attention to it.  And hell yes, I’ve still got the license plate #s on the lowlife breeder scum who teach their spawn to FUCK THE CRIPPLES, ESPECIALLY THE POOR CRIPPLES, BY STEALING THEIR STATE-MANDATED PARKING SPACES, YES, ESPECIALLY ON “PRIVATE PROPERTY”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If y’all loved me just a little bit more, one of y’all would come put me out of my misery.  If a horse or dog or cat or mongoose or pet rat or turtle were in THIS much DAILY harassment (by the psycho-cunt lesbian-crushing STALKER “manager” of this Chinese-sheetrock SHIT-HOLE!!!!  — AND — BY THE RACIST, LAW-BREAKING, HATE-MONGERING, GOSSIP-WHORE SOCIOPATH ALLEGED “SOCIAL WORKER” WHOSE LIFE MISSION IS TO DENY ME FEDERALLY-SUBSIDIZED HOUSING BECAUSE MY SKIN IS THE WRONG COLOR.  Dumb bitch KNOWS that I’m FOUR PARTS AMERICAN INDIAN, INCLUDING ONE BIG PART OF REDBONE (look it up, Yankees), and yet my APPEARANCE and refusal to eat her out or kiss her ass or whatever in the FUCK that racist sociopath WANTS  —  means, like the queeny little fella @ the LYING, THIEVING, RACIST APARTMENTS ON ST. ANTHONY STREET, WHERE I ***WANTED*** TO LIVE!!!! —  that I don’t fucking deserveto live in FEDERALLY-SUBSIDIZED AND NO-BID-CONTRACTOR-RUN SHIT-HOLES LIKE THIS.—  if ANY animal were in this much pain, with this suddenly-raised blood pressure, were being INTENTIONALLY AND METHODICALLY TORTURED BY UTTER SERIAL-KILLER-WANNABE PSYCHO-CUNTS, wouldn’t SOMEBODY put that poor animal OUT OF ITS MISERY AND LET IT CROSS THAT ALLEGED RAINBOW BRIDGE?!?!?!?!?!?

I deserve a fair shot at a life, dammit.  I deserve to not be raped & enslaved for almost 12 years & given-away @ age 2 by my stoned-off-her-ass-on-psychotropics “mother”;  I deserve to keep my whole brain, instead of having my brakes cut @ age 15 and losing all of my science & math to an illiterate flunky, mouth-breathing, inbred, child-rapist, no-neck piece of shit LOSER;  I deserve not to be nearly clobbered-to-death by an even-MORE-illiterate 9th Ward lowlife closet-case, all of the above consigning me to the liberal arts, which while easy to ACCOMPLISH, means I’ll NEVER get a PAYING GIG or a PUBLISHER because MY DADDY WASN’T AT RANDOM HOUSE AND I WASN’T SPAWNED BY SOCIETY-CONNECTED BIRTHERS AND WITH MY OWN FUCKING TRUST FUND, like 99.9% of the books on today’s market, except “Better Living Through Bad Movies,” self-published and ragingly successful hilarious opus by S.Z. Zollinger and Scott Clevenger, two of my most dearly-beloved buds.  The sequel will be out by winter-solstice-stolen-by-teh-papists CONSUMER-ORGY SEASON, hopefully, so get to World O’Crap and reserve YOUR copy of BLTBM2!!!!!!

Lastly, mega thanks to a kind young feller named Ryan, who pulled off the road with his wife, toddler daughter and ankle-biter little son, JUST TO HELP ME PRY MY FRONT FENDER OUT OF THE TREADS OF MY FAR-TOO-WORN BRIDGESTONE TIRE.  Not many people raise their kids right anymore, and I told him to tell his wife and his parents that they did a damned good job. Yeah, 99.9% of spawn under 30 deserve a year in the hot box (PRISON lingo, not PORNO!!!) and a gauntlet of baseball bats spiked with ten-penny nails, ESPECIALLY the drug-dealing, windchime-destroying, utterly-hyena-raised street “urchins” in THIS neighborhood. But Ryan, bless his cheaply-tattooed heart, is one of those rare exceptions that make me not fear for the future of the universe QUITE so much, like the spawn of my rare breeder friends, and y’all know who you are, ’cause y’all have the only under-30 critters aside from my dearly-adored surrogate-daughter Candice that I actually LIKE.

But I still want somebody to hire a hit-man or hit-woman to put me outta my misery, ’cause I simply can.  not.  take.  this.  level.  of.  pain.  ANY.  fucking.  MORE.  I have no way or ideas on how to PROPERLY off myself, seeing as how I stopped my always-failed attempts in 1997 and have never owned a firearm (’cause, as we know, I’d use it…  IN TRAFFIC.  Today, as that dumptruck squealed-out away from the wreck, it woulda come in DAMNED HANDY, though…).  Please.  Then y’all will never have to hear me whine about being permanently broke, toofless, in pain, tortured, missing my Bubbe-Boy cat, my murdered Nephew, my malpractice-murdered Nannie, or my similarly-slaughtered Papa.  Yeah, when I crave certain foods, or have a rare nostalgic moment, I kinda miss Teh Dick, too, but I usually recover.

Y’all will never have to listen to me bitch EVER.  THE.  FUCK.  AGAIN.

And the kind-hearted mercy-killer will also get my TV, my beat-down pickup, and whatever vinyl that I’ve got left that isn’t played-grooveless and that I either couldn’t or wouldn’t sell when scumbags on Decatur Street were ROBBING me of one HELLUVA classic-vinyl collection.  George Carlin, all the best bands & Aretha Franklin & Sabbath & Clapton would never forgive me, but it’s been a long time since they’ve been that broke.  If anybody was buying silver jewelry, I’d have at least $30 by now, almost enough to buy cigarettes and/or medicine.

Love y’all.  Love me back, please.  With one sharp blow to the back of the skull with a claw hammer.


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3 Responds so far- Add one»

  1. 1. Terrible Said:

    Yeah I know it’s too damn cold here but you should move to New England

  2. 2. Terrible Said:

    And do wish could do something bout your pain…short of shooting you though.

  3. 3. Anntichrist S Coulter Said:

    But Teh-heh-heh-heaaddddddddd!!!!!! I couldn’t even get a fucking AMBULANCE-CHASER to take the fucking HIT-AND-RUN CASE!!!!!!

    If THAT doesn’t rate me getting a one-way ticket offa this hates-my-fucking-bleeding-guts planet, WHAT WOULD?!?!!?

    You DID get my thank-you notes for teh loverly surprise goody-box of jerky & cheese, yeah?

    You can have what’s left of my truck if you’ll put me out of my misery, dood. Not much in way of compensation, I know, but it’s all I got left. And I *know* that you’ll take good care of Biddy, so I’m cool with this, all the way around. Except, y’know, for the part about freaking YOUR out and ruining the rest of YOUR year. Sorry ’bout that.

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