The gauntlet has been thrown
Sorry, but I’m Really Sick of This Writer
And I’m not the only one
She’s the kind of writer that complains about everything.
It would be OK if she did it for the views. We all have our gimmicks, and I respect the hustle.
But it’s not about the clicks.
It’s her nature. She’s an ungrateful, ungracious, and unappreciative person. (I wanted to say bitch, but it’s not my style to insult people.)
I wouldn’t usually write about her; I would block the profile and move on. I would “let it go,” as my daughter would say after watching Frozen for the fiftieth time (this year). It’s the right thing to do.
But she went after my mother.
In a not-so-well-written recent piece, she criticized my mother’s choices. And that’s not acceptable.
I need to write a side note here. Sorry for the interruption. But can you imagine she went after her OWN mother in one of her articles? That tells a lot about her. Still, I respect that. I understand relationships with other family members aren’t always easy.
She can go after her mother all she wants. It might be cathartic for her, and I wish her the best.
But she CAN NOT GO AFTER MINE.
My mother is a lovely perfection of maternal feelings. I love her so much. I would defend her all the way to the scariest corners of hell and back.
That’s not negotiable.
When I turned six, my mother organized an awesome birthday party. She always did, but I think I remember this one the most because it was so hot that day, and yet, we had so much fun.
As it happens, this writer has kids about the same age as me. They are very nice kids, and we’re friends to this day. They were invited to the party.
In her piece about the birthday party, this writer describes my mother as a complete lunatic with goofy ideas as to what children should wear when having springy fun in a bouncy castle.
She mentions in passing the cooler of white wine, insinuating misbehaviors from my mother’s side.
Let me set the records straight.
She was the one who didn’t let her kids join the fun. And it’s because she was jealous. I know it for a fact. Her kids told me how when they drank lemonade with her later, she forced them to listen to her ranting about the bouncy castle, the white wine she didn’t have time to finish, and my mother supposedly mocking her.
She totally made up some fake memories to justify her foolish actions that deprived her kids of an excellent afternoon of fun.
That’s sad.
And you know what’s the craziest? She wants to be a memoirist. She wants to share her remembrances with us.
Well, remember this, BITCH! You suck.
Sorry, words came out of my fingers faster than I could edit them. I meant that I hoped she’ll understand that making fun of birthday parties organized by the best mom in the world isn’t OK.
Here’s a message for her if she reads this piece: take into account others’ feelings before publishing your next “humorous” article.
In the meantime, I’ll be jumping with her kids in our favorite bouncy castle. It’s the same as the one we used back then at the best birthday party ever.
And yes, it’s the same dress code.
If you don’t believe me, look at this recent article she published. It shows what a sad and hateful person she is:
