Who's spitting on your soul today?
 

That other thread reminded me of one of our earlier dwellars. I'll never forget what's her name?

April?

No, it was the chick who was going with that guy and they lived in that place where they did the thing, you know...

Nope. stacyv

The girl with the chihuahuas and the Russian husband.

I know her husband was going to spit on someone's soul--but who and why?

No, no... everyone on the cellar spit on Arsen's soul... I can't remember why for sure, but it might have had something to do with him emailing an old flame or the pics of their really dirty stove and toilet. He didn't take criticism well.

Uhhh...This old bitch that called my work and talked to my manager. The next time this occurs the lady is getting a restraining order. She's already bothered me enough. Now she's calling the only job I have....Really. Do I have to put a fucking restraining order on your ass before you quit harassing me?

she's taking one out against you, or you against her?

I've told you about her before. It's the old nosey lady again. But she isn't done now that I've moved out....Apparently. :(

So far she is in contact with my ex, my dog-trainer, and now has decided to call my work. (and leave messages with my boss that people could infer, mean something really bad)

This is pissing me off. She used to just spy on my every movement while at home. Now she is calling my work and leaving messages, now that I have moved out.

Clearly, the special cellar kick is called for.

I like that name for it Zen, more family friendly.

to answer the question: The cosmos WAS spitting on my soul but only because I gave it the co-ordinates and instructions for above-mentioned spitting.

NOW, as taught by Oprah, my therapist and AA, I am asking the cosmos NOT to spit on my soul anymore and to just be excellent to my soul, perhaps bring it tea and scones or some nice icy cranberry and perrier with a twist.

I want the universe to bring me warm breezes, wide, sandy beaches, cool blue water and no one but my man beside me.

(Oh and a beach towel to keep the sand out.)

Sometimes a little spit on your soul acts as a lubricant, especially if the cosmos forgot to pick up more astroglide on the way home...

Sometimes violent teens really chap my ass.

http://news.aol.com/article/grandmot...-attack/278791