Something Wicked This Way Comes.


It’s me and my nasty, sarcastic, tired of your bullshit self. Perhaps I should be writing something typical of  Halloween, but how boring would that be? What? Am I supposed to comment on how many witches or Super Mario’s I will witness this evening? Maybe I could comment on the moms, who are going to dress like super slutty versions of anything (maid, Dracula, catholic school girl), while trick or treating with their kids. How about the dads, who will forget what house their kid ran off to, while watching the super slutty mom. They can’t help it if their own wife dressed as a banana this year. Last year,  I saw a woman who had her boobs up so high in her tight corset; I swear one fell out into a kid’s bag. I guess he got a mouth full. BUT….I digress.  I feel like bitching about braggers (oversellers) today.

I was thinking about when I met (platonic)  my husband around this time seven years ago (We were both divorcing, but people in a small town with small minds like to spread rumors.) . I actually met him seventeen years ago (It was platonic then, but people in small towns with small minds like to spread rumors.), but I was drunk and don’t remember. After weeks of knowing him, he mentioned he was a police officer. He didn’t elaborate and try to impress me with stories of bravado. I could’ve bragged about having my own parking space at the free clinic, but I didn’t. I just told him I knew where it was. He could tell he was going to get some. I didn’t have to put it out there on a billboard. Besides, the last time I did that…..too many customers. Hence….the free parking space.

**I went to school with someone who put their name down for every category in the senior “Voted Most…” list. Talk about an oversell.  Where are they now? They got duped by a better overseller sociopath, who took them for everything and then left. The biggest problem with an overseller, they don’t think anyone can do it better. **My ex was and still is an overseller. His problem: he sold stuff he wasn’t, didn’t do and never could be. False advertising all the way. I don’t know if I fell for the overselling as much as I just got tired of screwing around and needed to get a better tax return. I also had a need to fix people (childhood curse and quite another story). He’s still broken. **When I was in college, I went out with this colossal asshole (although…one of many). As the night wore on, he became more of an ass. Not only did he oversell, but he was a one-upper as well. He’d ask about me and whatever I said, he would do one better. He was confused at the end of the night when I wouldn’t have sex with him. Let’s face it. Who needs a one upping competition in bed? That could be dangerous. His self-promotion did work on my advertising professor though. She helped him get hired at one of the leading ad agencies in the U.S. He shortly got fired. It always comes back to bite you in the ass.

It’s everywhere, people talking themselves up, what they do for a living, what they’ve accomplished or embellished stories of one kind or another. It’s so fucking pathetic. Anyone who is truly worth a mention, doesn’t need to mention such things. And…honestly, people know you’re full of shit when you over talk. We’re on to you. Time to change it up.

So maybe for this Halloween, you could try to dress up as someone new, someone who doesn’t have to blow smoke up everyone’s ass, someone who doesn’t have to wrap themselves up in stories to keep others interested and someone who isn’t quite such a pain in the ass. AND….watch out for the lady with the falling boobs. It’s all fun and games until someone gets an eye poked out.

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6 thoughts on “Something Wicked This Way Comes.

  1. Yeah, one reason I liked my husband (your husband’s brother) when I first dated him was that he was the only guy who never tried to impress me by how much he knew. He could actually say, “I don’t know.”

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