I can be brutally honest, or honestly brutal.

At the risk of sounding like a song lyric- I’m brutally honest. Ask anyone who knows me well. I barely mince my words sometimes and my cruel words had me breaking off a friendship of 15 years simply because he couldn’t and wouldn’t hear the truth.

I refuse to bow down and pander to blind biased mothers who have no qualms (nor shame) to ask me if I think their ugly babies are cute. For the record and thousandth time, NO.

Of course I will not tell them to their faces. After all, the babies didn’t have a say in picking from the gene pool. But I will not lie either. I will choose to either walk away or change the subject.

Which is why I’m confused sometimes. At work, it’s a whole different ball game. I never believed in burning bridges because you’ll never know if you need the help of somebody one day.

Which is also why I think I’m a fake-o (fako just looks a tad weird, no?). I play nice at work (not to say I’m usually a bad-ass). Too nice in my own opinion. But I believe in maintaining the peace and that things can get hairy if there’s tension.

I’m quite an impatient person by nature but at work I’m as patient as a politician who has to shake hands with all 35,000 residents with a genuine huge ass smile within his constituency. Or a hooker who has to pretend to have utmost passion for her job even after seeing the spectrum of all the male species day after day.

However, this has proven to be fairly challenging in recent times. I know this person whom I think is fucking fugly. (And I’m not the only person who thinks so because I showed various people her photo and they have had varying responses, most of which included cringing or gasping in horror.)

Back to her. Let’s just call her FFF (Ferfluff-Fucking-Fugly) for convenience. I disliked her from the first time we met. She has proven my deduction right about the kind of person she really is. I basically try to keep things cordial because I kinda have no choice. Someone up there is definitely putting me to the test by stretching my patience to breaking point.

I will not reveal too many details about her for this will be on the WWW and you’ll never know who’s watching. However it has come to a point where she’s making up untruths about me. How do I know? I have many allies around who obviously are not fans of FFF.

Of course one can never fully trust even your strongest alliances completely, but this is all in typical FFF fashion. So very predictable. Obviously she’s aware that since she can’t win using her physical prowess (and it’s not like I’m even some hot chick) and her personality sucks balls, she has to resort to underhanded means.

I won’t stoop to her level though. Never did and never will. If I want to fight, I’ll do it with integrity because even if I lose, I know I’ll be able to sleep at night with a clear conscience. Damn. Those sounded way too much like corny song lyrics.

I’ll still continue to be polite and a little fake because you pushed me to it. I won’t start something simply because I haven’t heard it from the horse’s mouth, and I’m honestly too old to play cat fights.

In valediction, all I want to let you know (or any of your gossipy posse) is that I’m ready should you want to start a war. Just because I’m always cheery and smiling at work, and even act dumb sometimes means I’m all that. You haven’t seen me out with my claws and I guarantee you you won’t like it one bit. So, fuck off FFF.

Wow. Now I know how Liam Neeson felt when he uttered those words to the kidnapper. Right. I apologise if I sound like a gangster girl who issues threats like my father is the kingpin of the mob, but some young bitches really do need to be put in their place.



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