She dragged me in, what a bitch

Sam here, not Heather as Sam.
Heather has now officially dragged me into the blog sphere, what a bitch. Not only am I not going to sound as fucking eloquent as her, but I'm going to have to figure out something to say each day other than I hate everybody. Well, just great. Another damn thing to keep me away from my beloved crackbook. Work interferes with crackbook too. Oh well.
So, I suppose I should let you people (you know Heather), because God knows no one else is going to be reading this know a little more about me. I am not always angry, but chances are if I'm writing anything down it will be because I'm pissed off and venting. So, about 95% of the time it will be a bloody cursing mess of nonsensical anger. The other 5% will be me bragging about one of my munchkins. I have a daughter who we'll name banana because I've, like a retard, called her this since day one. Oh, and don't give me crap about using the word retard, I work with people with developmental disabilities and being retarded is a totally different story. Okay, so we have banana who is almost seven months old. Oh, and no, she will not be getting a blog of her own, unless I decide to write it in a way that other people can read IE not phonetically. Sorry guys, that just drives me up a wall. Anyway, my other munchkin will be referred to as Sir because I'm always calling him this. He is two years old and a really funny guy. Yes, I do realize that some day some poor bitch is going to hate me because her husband thinks he is so great because his damn mother called him sir. I also have a stepson whom I truly dislike and will probably throw that in here and get called a bitch by all of you, but after several years of hearing this, I'm over it. I'll just refer to him as stepson because anything else and I'll have to get into cyberwars over. See, I'm a pussy after all.
So, I live with all of the crazy people, plus....(here's the real kicker)... my mother-in-law. We'll call her fat bitch or fb for short. She writes to the kids, well actually just her precious son (my stepson) everyday to tell them what a whore I am. I, being the special person I am, continually read her drivel to see what she has told stepson about today. She intends to give him this book when she dies. Fat chance in hell fat bitch. She thinks of stepson as her own and will often come over just to give him a hug. We are separated by a connecting closet. So, she knocks on the closet door and then, walks in, never waiting for an answer. Oh, on a funny note, she really is fat and her profession is a physical therapist. I can hear the laughter. :) Well, I'm done with the crap for the night, I need to get back to crackbook. Have a great night and tune in to see what new special thing might happen tomorrow. Here's a clue: my piece of shit car is in the shop and I'll probably have a great rant about those stupid fucks. Oh, and it's my third anniversary living with fb and my husband. See, good stuff.