I do my best to stay away from you.

I don't talk about you, I don't write about you, I don't even think about you most of the time.

I don't like you...actually, I detest you...but I still respect you enough to not mention you or gossip about you.

You apparently cannot do the same for me.

You take everything I say and you twist it.  You mock me and my lifestyle, you take great delight in manipulating my words and my actions and using them for your own selfish gain and self-amusement.

It doesn't matter what I do, you will still find some way to persecute me. 

I seem to be the sole topic of conversation in your neck of the woods sometimes.  I should be flattered, but I'm not.  I can usually shake off what you say about me, but every so often I find myself becoming burdened with the comments you make about me.

So, I'm going to respond to you.

Yes, I'm a wife, and a mother.  Yes, I have a menial job.  But, I pay my bills, I pay my taxes, I abide by the laws, and I actively support this country every single fucking day.  I don't sit in front of a computer screen, waiting for an opportunity to make myself look good at someone else's expense.  You, however, do.

  What makes you think that you are better than me; that you are in a position to look down on me?  From what I can see, you're not superior to me.  You're not superior to anyone.  You, to me (and to quite a few other people) are the lowest of the low.  You are the proverbial bottom feeder, the one with the narcissus complex, the vain, arrogant posturing one who's sole purpose in life is self gratification, no matter what the cost to other people.

You think you're funny.  You're not.  No-one laughs, except your circle of juvenile friends.  You are the kind of person who finds humor in life's tragedies....when Howard Stern talked about his wife miscarrying their child, you probably found that hilarious.

You're probably finding some of the things that are going on around here of late funny. 

That makes me want to hurl.

I find myself wishing bad things to happen to you.  I find myself hoping that someone, somewhere will one day persecute you the way you have persecuted others.

You are a bully.

A cowardly bully.

One day....your turn will come.  I hope that I am there to witness it.