Bad blog etiquette … Shame on you Baby Jane

It’s really a shame when people have bad blog etiquette. I’ve only been a blogger for almost six months now, but I know better to judge people on their blogs. Hey, anyone can post whatever they want, and if I don’t like it I can just not read it. I never leave evil messages on people’s site.

But today, some beotch named “Baby Jane” left me two of the most bitchy, evil, and horrible messages on two of my posts that I quickly deleted because they were so hateful. And, because I’m ghetto, I sent her this nasty email … and of course she  gave me a fake email … as it came back to me undeliverable … so I’ll have to post it her so she gets the message:

Just wanted to send you a little message to kiss my fat ass. If you don’t like my blog, don’t read or comment on it. Sounds like all you want to do is complain about your own life and prove to me that your life is worse than mine … it’s not a contest lady. My blog is my way of expressing my self … you’ve heard of freedom of expression, right?

Miss Baby Jane basically told me off, said that she had never met a bigger complainer, that my life wasn’t tough, that I should make looking for work my full time job, that she had to shop at Goodwill, and she was divorced, a single mother, it went on and on for like twelve sentences. I was so furious I can’t even remember it all.

I wonder, did she stop to read my entire 212 posts so that she knows everything about me? Does she realize that I have way more going on in my life than what I tell people, did she stop to think that maybe I need to vent so that I can get over stuff? Stupid idiot.

So, let me sum up my life for you, evil beotch BABY JANE, so that you know why I felt justified in complaining a few days in a row:

1. My mom is bipolar. She had me out of wedlock, and then married my abusive step father when I was four. They both used to beat me, lock me in my room, and withhold food from me. I was forced to pee and poop in my room since I was locked in there for HOURS AND HOURS at a time. And, yeah, they used drugs too. (My mom also used to buy beer for all the older teenagers in my neighborhood so that they would give her free dope, which was horrifying to me.) The cops came to our house so much that my mom almost lost custody of us and her social worker, Mr. Zachary, was there once a week for YEARS. And, after my step dad divorced her (Only after causing her to go bankrupt) we were so poor that I had to steal toilet paper from the gas station because we couldn’t buy it with food stamps. I was 5′10 and weighed 116 pounds when I was in high school BECAUSE I WAS LITERALLY STARVING!
   
2. My mom tried to stab me when I was sixteen. Thankfully, she missed, but she managed to jump repeatedly on my pelvis with all of her 200+ weight. I think she did permanent damage and this is why I have 7 herniated disks in my spine today.
   
3. I had a Peeping Tom AND a Stalker. Two different people. My Stalker, who was also my ex-boyfriend tried to kill me at my high school graduation, not to mention tried to kill himself in front of all my neighbors one night after basically kidnapping me after work.
   
4. The only normal person in my life, my grandma, died when I was 19, and I have lived without love from a parent-type since then.
   
5. After getting talked into finding my dad via a private eye and another friend’s excellent detective work, I met an idiot man who wanted nothing to do with me, and have regretted it ever since.

I could also tell her about having nine diseases, or how I worked two jobs for twenty years, or how I’ll never have my own baby, or how I was in the hospital all day yesterday, or any number of other things, but I feel that I have said plenty about how tough my life was. I do have a much better life and a great (and very cute) husband and wonderful stepchildren but like anyone else, I face challenges on a daily basis.

Jane, it’s not a contest, but if it were, I hope you realize that when it comes to dysfunctional families, to my knowledge, only Augusten Burroughs has me beat. So suck it beotch!!!

Love,

The Girl from the Ghetto