my innermost sanctum

lame

crikey.

now the shameless mistress is wanting to tell the blue marble her side of the story. she felt betrayed, that's why.

:: splutter ::

that's a tad rich, comin from yer average village bint. who's usually a scheming evil twat who's never satisfied with their lot. and they are usually motivated by greed [for power and dosh], further boosted by their non-existent self-esteem.

they'd have us believed it's their fucked-up circumstances - whatever that means - as well as [severe] lack of attention that made them do what they did. what do they take us for, fool's??

whereas for blokes, it's usually their ultra-fragile ego which is the culprit. that's usually the case innit?

which leads me to wonder: how would i deal with it if i'm in the wronged party's shoes? could i ever pick up the pieces, and then get on with life with my dignity intact? or would i be driven to utter despair like this bird? who should have finished off her rival there and then? funny, she didn't go on to wallop that wankin twunt of a husband?

right. i'd better make sure my [ice/road] hockey stick's are out of sight. i've got *three of em.

:O

* one's my lucky hockey stick, whilst the other's a spare that has yet seen any action. i "volunteered" to bring home the aluminium one for some reason or other - no i was, erm, a tad too trolleyed to remember why. the usual round's of beer after a game, you know.