Saturday, November 17, 2007


I'm a being of the Violet Fire, I'm the purity God Desires
Ok, sooo yea today I was at an Alaninnie meeting and I asked a lady who's bi-polar if she still had the shrine "Violet Fire" that she bought from me at one of my art shows. She said "I'm embarrassed to say that I broke it in a rage". What! I can't believe my ears she broke one of my babies.

I told her my little trick to control my tantrums. I break Christmas tree bulbs. This is what I do: I'll get a box of ornaments and take them out to the garage or somewhere with a concrete floor and throw them at the ground. They make a very satisfying pop and shatter sound. Whenever I am in the Salvation Army I'll get a box for cheap. It better than throwing a glass or a plate onto my tile kitchen floor, scaring the husband, kids and grand kids and someone cutting their feet on the glass or picking it out of their food.

I am embarrassed to say I used to have an evil temper sometimes acting like Joan Crawford in Mommie Darest screaming WIRE HANGARS, I HATE WIRE HANGARS. Once my daughter got me a Mothers Day card it was a picture of a girl sitting in a chair with a gag in her mouth and a birthday cake on the table. A mother resembling Joan Crawford is saying "now darling blow out the candles." How subtle is that.

In my defence I come by my temper righteously my mom could out swear any sailor she was famous far and wide for her foul mouth, like: "he's ringier than a sack of assholes" or "I'll shove that fridge up your ass sideways" or "You are so stupid you couldn't tell shit from Shinola or you dumb stupid bastard." No one was just a son of a bitch, they were more: a stupid son of a bitch, a dumb son of a bitch, a fat son of a bitch, a lazy son of a bitch. The neighbor kids were so scared of my mom they would cross to the other side of the street rather than risk being yelled at. You have no idea the embarrassment and shame she caused me growing up. Once she thought my tom cat Sam was coming home from a night cattin around and she yelled, "where have you been you little ass hole? Out all night whoring around, I'll bet you want some breakfast don't you, you little bastard" it was some young innocent man just coming to read the gas meter. He looked so frightened it was quite comical. My friends and boyfriends were either scared to death of her or thought she was halarious.

But please don't worry about me I'm much better now. My mom taught me that the folks who shout the loudest are the ones who are the softest inside or their there just plain assholes.


wjcatnip said...

Judy, you brought me a real giggle this morning. The shrine was a beauty, but maybe it worked its magic releasing the owner from a fit of anger...

annie kelleher said...

i used to get angry like that. then i got tired of cleaning up the stuff i broke. not to mention... i broke some stuff i really liked. then i got tired of getting that angry and decided to figure out why. now i don't get that angry and i take much better care of my stuff :).