PAMTASTICO™

Think you’re something special? Well you’re in deep shit now. Pam knows how many licks it takes.

The softer side of Pam.

It has recently struck me that the Pam’s big FUCK YOU blogs may have given the impression that I am an angry, sarcastic, easily irritated, foul mouthed bitch. This simply isn’t true. In addition to the aforementioned, I am really quite jovial with a sweet disposition much of the time… unless something pisses me off… which is everyday.

To show that I am a nice, radiant ball of sunshine, I will share some things that bring me great joy.

Chatting with my daughter. She is the bestest best kid. I love to listen to her practice trumpet. I love the stories that she writes and the pictures she that draws. I love the sound of her laughter and the way her voice still sounds like a chipmunk over the phone.

Breakfast in bed. I like beds, and I like breakfast.

Rain. I love the way rain feels on my skin. I love the way it smells and the sound it makes when it hits the windows.

Lightning! Lightning is so pretty, I can watch it for hours.

Music. Music makes me sublimely happy, even when it is sad and makes me feel wretched.

Snowfall. I love to stand outside and watch the flakes fall from the sky. But only the fat ones. I despise the tiny, icy ones that feel like razor blades when they hit my face.

Thunder. I love the sound of thunder. Always. It can never be too loud…unless I’m trying to sleep. I fucking hate it when I’m all cozy in my bed and the thunder crashes so damn loud it scares me awake.

The laughter of children. I love to watch children play and laugh…until they get too fucking noisy and run into the same fucking room I am in. I get up and leave, but they follow me! No matter where I try to hide they find me because they’re so fucking desperate for me to watch the stupid new trick they can do or listen to the retarded song they just made up. After eleventy million attempts to get through the whole song without fucking it up, they clap their icky, sticky little hands together, real proud like and jump up and down like a bunch of fucking monkeys on fucking crack.

Melvin!

He is my cat and I love him. I like when he sits on my lap. I like it when he follows me around the house and talks to me…which is alot…and it’s so fucking annoying. Meow, meow! All of the fucking time! And it really pisses me off that whenever I bend over, say to tie my shoe or what not, that fat little fuck will jump onto my back and make himself comfortable. I’m not a fucking recliner! And when I try to get him off, he digs his fucking talons into my flesh to keep himself on! If I’m alone, the only thing I can do is scream my fucking face off and get down onto the floor. I roll onto my back and crush him to teach him a right good lesson! But does fucking he learn? Hell no, he doesn’t! But I love him. He is my special little man. Yes he is.

I can see that today was not a good day to prove that I am a nice, radiant ball of sunshine. I have been in a foul mood as of late, and I suspect that it shall remain so for fucking ever.

Fuck.

---