Stupid Nice Me

Yesterday, I went to the dentist to get my fillings replaced. While my mouth was numb, I think I accidentally bit my lip. I didn’t notice the flapping skin and the tiny bruise at the corner of my lip until the toothpaste started stinging.

Other thought for the day: I’m too damned nice. My sister begged and begged for a Louis Vuitton purse. It's her new obsession. What is so precious about a Louis Vuitton handbag? I don’t understand her obsession with bags, especially Louis’ bags? There is do difference between Louis' products and some other product at the nearby Mervyn's. The only damned difference is that it’s made by Louis (ooooh-gag!), and it’s got a serial number, and it’s own camel-skin wrap for storage. So fucking what? Fuck you, Louis Vuitton. You’re overpriced and overrated.

When I walked into that fucking store, Louis’ handbags are not all that great. They look like any other fucking bag you can find at a local swap meet. Why couldn’t I refuse her? She walked around the shop like a kid in a candy store. When she chose her new obsession from the shelf, the bag was half the size of a shoebox, maybe smaller. Total damage: a fucking $538.00 for a stupid purse that has the same function as any other generic handbag. Damn…it.

Why me? Why did she get me to buy that stupid thing? Does she think I'm made of money? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I hate fucking girly things!

I'm so tempted to tell her husband about it. I know he'll get pissed.