Two things before I finally get my ass to bed. (Warning: there will be some profanity in this post. Ellen is pissed.)

One, Steve Irwin died. That hurts. I really liked that man. He always seemed so funny and nice and excited about nature. And to die from a stingray to the chest? It's sad, really sad. I still can't really believe that the Crocodile Hunter, who always cheated death before, is dead.

Two, I shouldn't have done it. I should have listened to Alecia. I also should have just gone to bed.

But I didn't. I decided to torture myself. And now I am too angry to sleep properly. I read HER blog. I am such a dumbass.

She posts these incredibly long-winded sermons about "Paul's letter to Philippi" and being humble and writing good characters all this other stuff (and by the way, her grammar, spelling, and punctuation SUCK ASS), and it is all so unbelievably pretentious. She's probably sitting there thinking about what a wonderful person she is and how poorly certain people have treated her and how she struggles to understand imperfect humanity, blah blah blah. I will bet you anything that she still believes that we wronged HER. Such a fucking hypocrite.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

I just want to beat the shit out of her sometimes. When I step back and think about how angry she makes me, it's really interesting where she ends up in my List of People Ellen is Very Angry At:

1. Michael Glass
2. God
3. Pedophiles and rapists in general
4. HER
5. Bastard that married HER
6. Terrorist assholes
7. Joss Whedon


And the list goes on, but I won't put it here because it's just too damn long. You know what the bitch of it is? I wouldn't be so fucking enraged at her if I didn't love her so much, or at least remember how much I used to love her. It's been too many years for me to still be this violently upset about it, but I am.

It's my own fault this time. I never should have read her blog. If I can ever hope to not feel this fucking INFURIATED over her, I've just got to never, ever see her or anything she writes or hear about her or hear her name ever, ever, ever again. She will have to be dead to me before I can not feel angry about it.

I have to try to sleep now. Got work in the morning. I'll just have to do my best to pretend I never knew her.