An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

Email: Can’t we just leave my hair out of this?

Last week I got this email from a woman who I definitely DO NOT want to party with. It was an email full of exclamation points, you know the kind, and she called me an uneducated idiot because I am not going to vote for Bush on election day. I was going to reprint the email in its entirety here, along with the woman’s email address, because at the end of the email she said this:

“p.s. i like your new hair color. so much better that your fake ‘i am from LA’ bitch blonde.”

And why you gotta be goin and calling my hair a bitch? Totally uncalled for, and that totally warrants having her email address published here to be mined by SPAM bots. And then there was the part that I have been laughing at ever since I read the email, the part that goes:

“This election is about terrorism and the economy. And BUSH is the clear choice. OK, maybe, Kerry for president….of FRANCE!!!!”

Of France!!!! Of France!!!! For the past few days whenever I’ve been talking to someone and there is a lull in the conversation I’ll go, “Of France!!!!” You should try it next time you can’t think of an answer or want to scare the living shit out of someone in the shower when they don’t know you’re home. Creep up on them and yell, “Of France!!!!”

Who uses four exclamation points? I probably have once or twice, but now that someone else has used them to emphasize France I just don’t know anymore. Wouldn’t one or two do just fine? Does France really deserve four? They aren’t that annoying, and Oliver lives there. And they gave us freedom fries!!!!

Oh, and then there was this other part of the email, the part where she gets a little personal:

“Do a little research. Really. It would be good for you. Take your mind off your peeling paint and your lonely existence. Just Google some sites. I know you can do it.

And just because you live it Utah doesn’t mean you can totally bury your head in your ass. You’re part of the USA, too. So get used to it.”

I know that things have been a little political around here lately, and you’ll have to forgive me, but we’re voting for President next week. It’s kind of exciting. I am very aware that Utah is part of the USA, too, and that is why I am voting. My vote won’t make a difference on the outcome of who will win in Utah because Utah will go to George Bush. Republicans in Utah can crucify candidates for other offices by running commercials that say nothing but “This candidate is a Democrat.” And they will lose, on that principle alone, because this is Utah and God said so.

But I have a right to cast a vote that disagrees with 90% of the state I live in. I’m allowed to do that, without being tarred and feathered, without being arrested, without being raped and pillaged. That’s the cool thing about the USA, that even though my vote won’t make a difference I can stand up and say that I disagree.

And that is why I am voting for John Kerry. Because I am afraid for my rights as a woman and as a citizen of the USA with George Bush as president, someone who believes that he has been called of his God to lead this country against evil-doers. The line between what he is doing in Iraq and what terrorists continue to do to innocent people is too thin, as they believe they are called by their God as well. Not everyone’s God can be right.

Of France!!!!

Instead of spreading negativity by publishing the email address and the name of the woman who sent me that email, I’m going to publish something else, an email I got earlier today that made me cry in a good way, an email that makes me hopeful and cheerful and very happy that I am alive:

——

From: n.
Subject: the new contract

“What happens if I end up crazy?”

“How crazy?”

“How crazy is too crazy?”

“Well, I think institutionalization may be the cut off because visiting you would be so unpleasant…”

“Hmm. What about the Armstrongs?”

— pause —

“You’re right. For love, you visit. You visit hell, if you have to. And if they throw you out of hell, you wait on hell’s lawn, indefinitely. That’s how I’d do it if you got crazy.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely. We will call this ‘The Armstrong Clause’, and it will be a contract that can only be nullified in the event of a sockless baby…”

No Comments

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

read more

SaveSave