You don't know that I am mad
And curse you underneath my breath
I think that you would be so sad
If you found out about my death.
You've no idea that I'm hurt
And want to cut you off for good
In person I'll be sweet and curt
Then smudge your clean car's little hood.
'Tis true, there is no tangible reward
But Passive-Aggressive I must be
Eventually, I will get bored
And friendly truce will set me free
Oh Silent Feud, I love your grace
and power--allow me to be mean
Whilst I cut my nose to spite my face--
Without admitting that you are a stinky friend who really, really hurt my feelings and I am just a big fat boob for letting you, and so I hope that there is a tiny, tiny part of you that feels punished and if your birthday was today I would not call or send you a present. Humph.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Ode to the Silent Feud
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5 comments:
hope you didn't mean me!
or me.
Hello--it is a SECRET feud. You are defeating the purpose. Plus, Mom, have you ever NOT known when I was mad at you? (Sorry--angry. Dogs get mad. I know, I know.) Don't you remember that I mastered the door slamming at age 8?
Sometimes being passive-aggressive is the best revenge. I have a neighbor who still doesn't know we're fighting.
Waldo has promised me that the secret feuds will continue on after I die, and if I am hospitalized to not call certain people until I am at death's door, so that then they will feel really bad when I say "Well, I didn't want to bother you with my CANCER."
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