A Tale of the Disenchanted


Once upon a time, there was a curly-haired girl named Sparklebumps who grew up loving fairy tales. Needless to say, this was NOT in any way beneficial to her life. In fact, the opposite proved to be true. The phrases “True Love” and  “Happily Ever After” were so imbedded into her brain that she went through her beginning years actually believing these things could really happen.

The wicked stepmother in her stories was replaced in her reality by a scary ogre of a man she called “Dad”, who worked her night and day until her muscles grew and her report card had all A’s. The occassional beating was issued whenever Sparkle actually let her personality come out, because the man she called “Dad” was trying to turn her into a Stepford Wife, and he didn’t know how else to do it. Sparkle also had a ninny of a mother who was good-hearted, but depended on “Dad” to make all her decisions for her.

When Sparkle switched schools in 4th grade, she fell deeply in love at first sight with a boy who was very smart in her class. They spent the next 5 years trying to out-do each other in the classroom, and became decent friends. Sparkle was always to afraid to let the boy know of her feelings for him, and she never told him; which is something she will always regret. The boy grew up to have a very beautiful perfect family with a very tall blonde wife.

(Skipping ahead to the better part) When Sparkle was 18, she escaped from the prison “Dad” had created for her and got her own apartment. The first night there, Sparkle was terrified to realize she didn’t even know how to write a check out or balance her checkbook. A man she mistook for her knight in shining armour helped her figure all this important life stuff out, and she married the guy.

The Mistaken Knight (or so we shall call him) had parents who owned a restaurant where Sparkle got her first job. She worked there for 12 years, each year growing more and more depressed at the thought of working there for even one more day. When her evil mother-in-law gossipped one too many times, Sparkle exploded and basically said, “Fuck this shit.” She went and found her dream job at a little used bookstore the very next day.

(More skipping) After getting divorced and finding her own personal Rockstar, Sparkle settled into her new life, a little bit wiser than she was, and jaded enough to realize that life isn’t a frickin’ Disney movie. She still found joy in the little things, and in going to her bookstore job every day, until her nemesis, the Boss, started being a fuckin’ cocksucker, and tried telling her how to do stuff, EVEN THOUGH he was never there and didn’t have a clue.

The Boss poses as a Christian, so he flaunts his Biblical knowledge and looks down upon Sparkle for living in sin with her Rockstar, but he is really just so angry because his wife is successful and can’t believe she married such a loser. She  cannot stand the thought of The Boss touching her, which results in his coming to work and complaining about his horniness.

This morning, Sparkle was all ready for a brand new day, excited to actually do some work, and bought a buttload of super-fun erotic novels from a customer. Then the wicked Boss came in and bitched her out because he says “this is a family-friendly store”, even though every single smut book we’ve ever had has sold. He then proceeded to raise Sparkle’s blood pressure by bossing her around until she wanted to stab him in the head with the scissors she was using to make a beautiful sign.

Sparklebumps is trying hard to believe there is a “Happily Ever After.”

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17 Comments

Filed under Beauty, Books, God, Humor, Life, Love, Money, Uncategorized, Work

17 responses to “A Tale of the Disenchanted

  1. Pingback: I Am Indebted To You, Soldiers | sparklebumpsthebookwhore

  2. I would have brought you an extra hot Turtle and McDonald’s french fries…

  3. Hi, i must say excellent website you have, i stumbled across it in Google. Does you get much visitors?

  4. ipegasus

    Someone should turn this story into a cartoon. Gold!

  5. Too chancy. People have survived the scissors-to-the-head attack. I recommend the hand-grenade-inserted-in-the-anus technique.

  6. A co-worker of mine noticed some oil dripping from under my car in the parking lot at work but instead of telling me about it he called my ex-husband and bitched him out for not fixing it and “forcing” me to drive a huge antique car instead of something more suitable like a Jetta.

    So the next day I loaded my huge antique trunk up with a generator, air compressor, two jacks and my torque wrench and then proceeded to remove all four tires from his car. I locked his tires in my trunk and refused to return them until he called my ex and apologized.

    He did.

  7. If it makes you feel any better (which it won’t) I used to have a college tutor that I wanted to stab in the head with scissors! We all have them people.

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