Waiting is the hardest part... of revenge

I battle constantly with demons. I sought from a young age to become enlightened. I've read, I've meditated, I've taken psychotropics and anti-depressants. Like an American Beauty, I've worked hard to climb my way out of the manure-soaked dirt of my bloodlines. Anyone who's traveled this path knows some days you smell like a rose and other days you stink of shit.

Guess which day this was.

I attended my Aunt Sharon's funeral today. I got up early, shaved, put on a clean, white shirt & wore dress shoes. I demonstrated my respect like a civilized man. Didn't expect a lot of warmth and hugging when I got there, but I never stop being amazed at some of the shit I am related to.

Today, I was reminded what classless trash Sharon's children are. Those animals deliberately left my mother off the list of surviving siblings. I don't believe it was my Aunt Sharon's will either considering their last contact was pleasant if not ebullient.

This act of pettiness was mean-spirited, yes, but surprisingly passive-aggressive. Really such a fey move. I was surprised by the femininity of it. It was like something a high school cheerleader would come up with. Good job, Robert. Now all you need is a sassy scarf and you win Bitch-of-the-Year.... so all right.

Mum wasn't phased. Uncle Kenny was not pleased, but let it go on her request. I, however, am vengeful. I don't believe funerals should be used for spite. I am smarter and meaner than those inbreds. I have a long memory and a lot of time on my hands. I know something they don't know about their mother and why she was so eager to make peace with my mother the last time they met.

So wait for it.