Dirty Money

Saturday evening I politely declined job suggestions and clearly stated that I didn’t ask for advice. The other person takes it as a slap to the face and gets hysterical. This happened over email, so I imagined him as a spoiled brat kicking and screaming for not getting his way.

Here’s a summary of his message: “Wah-wah. Wah-wah-wah.”

He had a problem regarding my involvement with shady business deals. It was my last resort because I couldn’t get by on a low income. The guy demonizes me for it, calls me selfish for using dirty money to pay the bills and put food on the table. Then he absolutely loses his shit over my plan to create a nest egg to fund plastic surgery procedures that I need for health and psychological benefits.

Well, he ain’t got no right judging me for the choices I make to survive and to experience whatever shred of happiness I can — while his fat ass sits in a comfortable home, never has to struggle and is able to afford groceries and vacations. But oh heaven forbid I splurge a little on non-essential things that were once out of reach: high quality makeup and limited edition collections that I would’ve had to save and budget to obtain.

Anyways, fuck his opinion and holier-than-thou attitude. He could pass for Tim Curry Pennywise with his mess of a hairline. That fool didn’t just act like a clown but he brought the whole damn circus into my mailbox. Lastly, I don’t need the company of a clingy/needy SOB who overreacts and throws a hissy fit every time a message isn’t answered within hours. After 3 years, he’s still the same flawed, condescending asshole and he doesn’t even realize it. So I didn’t bother clapping back at someone who cannot see past his large upturned beak.

Good fucking riddance.