Somebody Save Me


I find myself to be relatively independant. I have lived on my own and (mostly) paid my own bills since I was 18. I do not mind going to movie theatres alone, (mostly because I prefer no witnesses when murdering the offending Popcorn Crunchers) I have never once xpected a man (or any other human being) to pay my bills, and I can be (if necessary) completely content with providing myself with satisfactory sexual stimulation.

That being said, it may surprise you (or it may not) that there have been quite a number of people who have described me as “princess-like”. This is not in the looking- down -my -nose -at- people way, no; it is in the Disney somebody-needs-to-kill-the-dragon-and-wake-that-bitch-up-because-she-ate-an-apple way. What I’m trying to say is- apparently I’m a damsel in distress and didn’t even know it.

The fact that I have been accused of lacking common sense may have something to do with this. A prime example is the fact that my car tabs needed to be renewed in October, yet I would rather go drive around slowing down when police are spotted in hopes that they will overlook this fact than actually go in and purchase the required tabs that I will have to buy eventually anyway. It is things like this that irk my Rockstar.

My parents raised me to believe that no one owes you anything in this world, and it is wrong to expect people to help you for no reason. (Which actually mkaes no sense considering that they are Baptists) The kicker is that they in no way prepared me to be able to take care of myself; I had to figure it out all on my own. I think I did ok.

As of late, I have been growing increasingly frustrated with many aspects of my life. I am trying to cope the best I can by trying to be positive, but yesterday I was told once again I give off the aura of someone needing to be saved. I took a shower yesterday, so I’m pretty sure that had nothing to do with it. Anyhoo, I cannot imagine being one of those women who marry for money expecting to be taken care of for the rest of their life, and I hate admitting that I need hugs more frequently than the average person. However, if someone would like the opportunity to save this damsel from distress, I’m feeling open to the idea. I would love to be that heroine that slays her own dragon, but GODDAMN, it would be nice if someone supplied me with  a flamethrower so I could do so. Hello? Is anybody there?

 

 

7 Comments

Filed under Humor, Life, Uncategorized

7 responses to “Somebody Save Me

  1. They used to call me the Dragon Slayer….till that dick Merlin came along and stole my thunder…

  2. You don’t need a flamethrower; you need a flame.

  3. One might want to purchase ones own Flamethrower 😉

  4. Kana Tyler

    I know precisely what you mean! I bristle at any implication that I CAN’T take care of myself–but dang, it’s nice when I don’t HAVE to… Shortly after I left my first husband, my son (age six at the time) and I discovered I had a flat tire on my car. The first words out of his mouth were, “Oh no! It’s too bad we don’t have a MAN with us!” Whereupon I went into full-blown “Oh-no-you-DIDN’T-just-say-that! And went on to show him that MOMMY can change a tire, thank you very much! However… Mommy is more than content to let her husband take care of these things now that she’s NOT on her own anymore! 😉

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s