I'll see you in hell.... from heaven.

Man, niggas be messing up my walk with Jesus. I mean, I know I'm a cussin, tryin-not-to-fornicate heathen, but I really don't wish bad on folks too often. Last night was an exception. You ever think of something, or say something ultra bad and feel something remniscent of a smack upside the head? But no one is there to slap you? It's not like a slap, but your neck kinda jerks, like someone smacked you? Oh, so thats just me? Well thats cuz y'all a bunch of heathens, LOL. Go talk to Jesus right now! Anyways, thats what happened to me last night. DF-ex left me another 8 minute message on my cell phone. At the end of his usual whining and begging for forgiveness, this ass had the nerve to tell me that even though he knows I'll never let him see me on earth again, he's looking forward to seeing me in Heaven. I saw red. I'm so mean, y'all. Instantly I'm thinking, "Hell naw nigga, I'll see you from heaven... writhing in agony in the eternal flames of damnation! Ha Ha Ha!" All 'wicked witch of the westcoast' like. I was really sitting there on my bed, crackin up at the thought of this nigga burning in hell for all eternity when I felt my neck snap. I was a recipient of the Holy Pimp Slap from Above, y'all. Then I was all mad because I knew what it was, so I had to pray right then and ask for forgiveness for being so mean and unforgiving. And for actually laughing with glee at the thought of this idiot roasting on the spit like a pig in an eternal rotissirie oven (set it and forget it!). So yeah, I had a mixture of anger... and well more anger. He actually had the nerve to insinuate that he'd be around to ruin my hallelujah time in the place granny calls The Glory Land after all he put me through during our crap ass relationship down here, well that just pissed me off super quick. So God smacked me up. Now I feel bad. I still ain't calling him back. Sucka. I am pleased to report that I had a good enough night to where I nearly overslept. I messed up and slept in real pajamas. I shoulda stuck to the ghetto fabulous t-shirt and boxers ensemble. I know if I'm too comfortable I can kiss getting to work on time goodbye. Good thing I don't have to punch a clock, because I'd be in trouble. Ain't the first time this happened, LOL. Oh well. So since I did roll up in here slightly late, I'm gonna compensate and get to work. These people are trying to kill me so I can't go to the holiday party. I can dig that. Maybe it'll work and I'll be croaked before the stupid lab gift exchange. What the hell do you buy middle aged white ladies? Man. I wish I'd have pulled the ambiguously white salsa dancin' chemists name. He's at least closer to my damn age. BOOOO. Bah Humbug on this damn place. Le' me 'lone, dammit! Aiight I'm going to work now. I'm out.