Choir rehearsal went well. Chuck and Ching were present. New two people girls showed up. One old woman sat in the back of the altos section and one girl sat up front behind the organist.
Now Mutha Fucka is rebuking be again, stating that I’m not a nice person for not yucking it up with the other choir members snd that they don’t bother talking with me because I look mean and nasty.
On the contrary you God-damned, blubbering bitch! I’m hard of hearing, remember? Socializing is next to impossible when freaking yappers like you keep shooting your mouths off.
I don’t play nice, period. It’s stupid among crazy people. I’m faking my smile as co-workers wave, smile, and greet me. Everyone can be dead.
I’ll sing your funeral dirges and unholy requiems anytime. “Wishing y’all well to hell! Can’t y’all tell your smell burns to hell?” Hell!
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