1 hour ago
Sunday, 5 April 2009
Who accused me of being a bitch? I did actually.
I'm not an advocate of astrology. How could it be when I've had a passion for AstroNOMy since a kid? They are mutually exclusive and incompatible pursuits. But somewhere tucked in the memory is my reading that Librans are supposed to be the ones who find it most difficult to forgive others when crossed. That certainly is true of me. Wish I didn't bear grudges but the fact is I store them up, leaving them to fester for maybe a liftime long, and I fantasize about how I'd get my revenge. One frequent such flight of imagination is that I win the top prize in the National Lottery - say at least £4,000,000 - or even several times that figure in the weekly European Lottery which I also enter. It goes without question that I'd be as generous as I reasonably could to my surviving family members and the few friends I have. But most people would do that anyway so it's nothing special . No, the 'fun' would be had in trying to trace those past affairs which both myself and the other party would prefer to forget. But with me, forgetting is not an option. With maybe a few of them I would, in fact, offer them a fair sum of money - just enough to embarrass them but simultaneously to make them think how magnanimous I was. (I'd say to them "Well, you'd only be doing the same for me." while knowing full well that they wouldn't.) But there are at least two guys from my past whom I'd want to make certain knew that I was in the money and that I was giving out part of it only to those I considered 'deserving' of something - and to make sure that they were aware that they were losing out because of their previous conduct towards me. Oh, that delicious feeling when I would see their faces! I'd really like to tell them personally and watch their expressions fall. If they felt like lashing out at me (which I hope they would) I'd be protected by the bodyguards I could afford to employ. Then I'd go back to my fortified luxury mansion and laugh myself silly into my G&T. Aren't I THE prize bitch? Ooooh, scratch yer eyes out!
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NOTE TO SELF: never cross you.
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