It's Just Abbey

So yesterday someone suggested that I become a fan of “Not Being Raped by Ben Roethlisberger” on Facebook. At first I thought, well I am not a fan of Big Ben or being raped… So being raped by him would be a double whammy of suckage. I AM a fan of not being raped by him!

Then I just started to get mad. Why? Because Big Ben Worthlessberger is on my Top 5 People I HATE HATE HATE List. My list of mortal enemies. These are people I just cannot and will not forgive. They could give me billions of dollars and not rape me and I would still feel like poking them in the eye. Let me run that list by everyone.

(List is in chronological order because on a level of hate from 1-10 they are all 11.)

1. The girl who broke my Skip-It.

When I was six I moved from Missouri to Ohio. In the first few weeks of school I was trying to find my place in this new group of kids. I mean, they all learned to read together. That is a bond that cannot be broken into easily. So I brought my paper bag of Barbies. Oh Little Abbey. You sad little girl. Who has a paper bag of Barbies?? You look like a little 6 year old sociopath!

So one day my mom went out and got me a hot pink Skip It. I was elated. These were new and cool and no one had one! I was on the path to being Queen Bee now! So I carried that to school like a hunter bringing his kill to the village and the peasants rejoiced. I was the center of attention! Everyone wanted to know my name and sit with me at lunch! I was like the kid with crutches except my toy cost way less and both my legs worked! Neener neener neener!

Then along comes my first mortal enemy. She wanted to play with my Skip It. I allowed her too.

MIIIIIISTAAAAAKE!

She took that thing for a spin like it was a rental car she had insurance on. Sure enough, about 10 violent spins in the ball on the end flew off, into the street and was crushed by a car. She handed back the stick, the only remaining piece of my Skip It, and just said, “Oops” and left. All the other kids just sighed and walked away. WAIT! I STILL HAVE MY BAG OF BARBIES! COME BACK! Ug… Who knows who I could have been if she hadn’t crushed the dreams of my weird little self. Bitch.

2. The kid who told me Santa didn’t exist

This jerk told a whole lunch table of us that he knew Santa wasn’t real and it was just parents tricking us into being good. Thankfully I was not the only one destroyed by the news. I never got over that and just glared at my parents for weeks. Thanks kid for ruining Christmas. Couldn’t just let us find out on our own could you? Admittedly it made the Easter Bunny thing easier to find out.

3. My fifth grade English teacher

This story is kinda graphic and really embarrassing. When I was in 5th grade I was in a new school again trying to make new friends with these new people. I should also note that until this point in my life I had no issue with authority figures. I assumed crossing them or questioning their methods would get me set on fire. I listened to adults no questions asked. (My dad may not agree with that one… )

Anyway one fateful day I was having a digestive nightmare. After lunch I was feeling very sickly. I asked to go to the bathroom. Nope, not allowed. We just had lunch, you should have gone then! I just danced around and took my seat praying to be able to hold it for 40 minutes. I made it 30 seconds before I went up to ask again. She said no and demanded I sit down and not bother her or I would get detention.

Too late. I was moments away from explosion. I jetted out the door and sprinted down the hallway. Internet, I didn’t make it. My little 11 year old self crapped herself running down and hall in a new school. How should I phrase this… This wasn’t the kind of “accident” you could shake out of your pant leg and blame on the dog. No. This was a new pair of pants and a pissed off janitor.

After that terrifying scene I just cried and cried while they called my dad to come get me. That teacher did call to say sorry but come on lady. Wrap your mind around what damage you just did to my psyche. I blame her for ruining my life in middle school.

(this story brought to you by the girl who spent two years trying to convince her college boyfriend that girls don’t poo. A-thank you!)

4. My college roommate

This story is its own blog post but I really don’t want to honor it with that glory. Let me explain as simply as I can. I moved in with this guy friend. It was a plutonic relationship with Phedre’s ex. How could this possibly go wrong Abbey? Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking either.

Basically he flunked out of school, didn’t tell anyone, didn’t pay rent for months, almost got me evicted (twice), was a hog and was a complete loser. Was he doing drugs? No. That would have made sense. No, he was just too busy playing video games. He almost got me EVICTED because he was too busy gaming to find a job. EVICTED. Jesus fish.

OH! And then one night after we almost became homeless, he had the balls to tell me I used too many cups in the apartment and I was being wasteful. He is lucky to have both his eyeballs still working. I was working double shifts and weekend to make sure we were able to live there. I was well within my rights to dirty all the cups I wanted and leave them anywhere I damn well pleased!

He may come up in topics later so his codename will be: Twat Waffle.

5. Big Ben Roethlisberger

Words may not be able to accurately describe this hatred but I shall try. Also, let me be clear that this is not an NFL rivalry hatred. I may be in Browns territory but I am a Chiefs girl born and bred. I have bled red and yellow since the day I was born. But that may have to do with the fact I was covered in placenta and had a raging case of jaundice. Go Chiefs!

Moving on…

You see Big Ben graduated from my high school so he became this hometown hero when he got drafted. He would come to down, schmooze, and basically throw his weight around. Whatever, I didn’t care. Let everyone act like they loved you when you were nobody, whatevs.

Then the year after I graduated I came back to march in the Alumni Band during the Alumni Night at Friday night football. I wanted to do it at least then when I still knew people in band and it was less lame then it already was. Of course, Big Ben is Alumni so he shows up and watched the football game from the pressbox. Whatever.

At halftime the rule usually goes that the Alumni Band can watch the halftime show from the track at center field. Yay! Well, I went to do that and a police officer told us no. No! You know why? Because Big Ben was here and it was a security violation. WHAT?

You’re right sir. From the looks of it, me standing there and him being locked up WAY up there would surely result in his death. I was so pissed. I was being kept from my given place because of fucking Big Ben and his “awesomeness.” Gah. If he had a vagina and was dating my dream man we would have a Taylor Swift song on our hands.

Ever since that I blame him for everything that goes wrong in my life. Why? Mostly because everyone I tell this story to laughs at me for being a nerd and tells me to let it go. But I will not be silenced! I am a tenor sax scorned and I will piss and moan all I want. He is a jerk and anyone who meets him knows this. I would say this all to his foot shaped face but let’s be serious. The guy is huge. So I am just going to sit here from a safe distance and shake my fist at him! Grrr!

Thank you for allowing me to vent as usual! This helped me work off a lot of repressed anger. Who needs therapy, right? Right.

And just so you know I made a Facebook fan page so feel free to become a fan and get all the latest and greatest news about IJA!