a tale of two shitties

A shitty modern fairy tale.

Let’s say that there are two shits. Forget about where they came from. They’re just two shits, making it in the world. They go their shit jobs, work shit hours for shit pay. They come home, eat shit for dinner, watch shit on TV. Go to bed and have shit dreams.

So: two shits.

Now these two shits – I haven’t mentioned this – these two shits, they don’t know each other. They live in separate shit houses in different shit neighborhoods in the same shit city. One has a shit-tzu and the other’s more of a cat shit. They dream under the same shit constellations and breathe the same shit air, but they do it with miles of shit roads between them.

Now one night these two, these two shits, each go out with their separate shit friends. They end up at the same shit club. Neither of them are into the shit club’s shit music that’s so shittingly loud it makes them nearly shit their shit pants. So they make like shit wallflowers way in the back by the shitters, which would normally make for a shit night but instead that’s how they find each other.

They learn they like the same shit books. They both play shit ukulele. They are both shitty at geometry and suspicious of all shit politicians. And learn that they both work the same shit hours for shit pay at the same shit job.

And so of course within a week they’re taking their shit lunch-breaks together. Within a month they’re on shit dates at shit restaurants all over this shit city. They laugh at each other’s shit jokes and really honestly truly listen to their shit stories of their shit lives.

Soon, perhaps unavoidably, they become two shits in love.

And like any two shits in love, they eventually have shit sex. And, uh oh, well damn, the shit condom breaks. So a few shit months later they have an adorable, puffy-cheeked little shit baby. They smile shit smiles at their little shit. They are pretty happy with their shit lives, which is nice.

And of course, that shit baby eventually starts churning out some really shitty diapers. Diapers that even these two shits in this shit city with their shit jobs and shit lives don’t want to go anywhere near, that’s how really shitty these shit diapers are.

And that right there is how like shit I feel today. The the shit in that shit baby’s diapers that its shit parents with their shit house and shit jobs in this shit city won’t even dream of touching.

Or, to put it more bluntly, if less scatologically, fuck fibromyalgia.


One comment on “a tale of two shitties

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