Saturday, June 11, 2005


There are a few other dwarves around here along with some of the Duffs as well.

The Biddy Who Hit Me (you can substitute another word of one syllable for Biddy if you so desire) has cooked up a story that we were both changing lanes at the same time. While this is patently untrue, there are no witnesses and no physical evidence on either car to prove either story. Ergo, her insurance is going to give me zip to get my car fixed. This means I either have to cover the costs myself or go through my insurance. I have a $500 deductible and the major damage to the car is a bent rim ($129 to repair) and a dent in the door that might cost around $500 to fix. Yes, there are scratches down the side of the car, but I can fix that myself. There are scratches all over the damn car, so I could care less as long as they won't rust.

What irks me is that TBWHM is being such a jerk about the whole thing. She was easily in her seventies and looked at me (dressed in workout clothes) like I was some irresponsible teenager. She decided it had to be my fault. Lady, I'm going to be 41 on Tuesday. You never expressed the least bit of concern about my health or the health of my child. You can tell me all you want about how you were going to your church group, but it's words not deeds, honey and your actions show that you haven't the slightest clue about what it means to be a good person. Here's hoping you come back as a cockroach. I've got Raid.