Jack, Why'd You Choose Today To Be An Ass?

I am pissed beyond measure. Jack has pissed me off and I am fighting mad. I really feel justified in wanting to kick his ass. Here's what happened. You know that Jack is a writer. Well, along with being in love with the old bastard (I'm venting, remember), I also do some PR/Admin work for him. I know, dumb-dumb me.

Well, I had just cleaned up some of his old photos. I digitized them and fixed the color and such. They turned out nice. Ended up making an album with the photos online.  He went into the album and used one of the photos as his new Facebook profile pic. Did I get so much as a "thank you"? Nope. Not one 'effing peep.

You see, I have manners. I expect manners. I expect Jack to call or text when I do something for him. Oh, but Jack just gets away with it because he has me wrapped around his little finger. Ha-Ha-Ha!!

We will see about that, Jack. If you keep messing around, you WILL be "Leaving Las Vegas" and staying in Las Vegas all by your lonesome.


Don't give me shit just because Barbara is in your life.  I don't care if your so-called "long lost love" is feeding you peeled grapes at 3 a.m., you should thank people for the work they do for you.  I mean, you did before.  What's stopping you now?  Oh...Her???   I'll tell you what...If you want Barbara, let her be your little flunky, you jerk bastard.

I love you but you won't get away with treating me as if I owe YOU something. A simple "thank you" will suffice. Like I said, I am saying nothing to you until Las Vegas. You have some serious 'slpainin' to do, Lucy!

Until then, I do no more work for you. No more updates to your website. No more press releases. No more nothing. Two can play this game. I have the ball...Now, do you have the balls?