I'm somewhat of a private person. (More like a lot, but whatever.)
So when Sunshine had a camera crew filming my fucking yard a short moment ago, I considered killing him.
Then I realized that a 187-murder-death-kill would just bring more camera crews, so I shit-canned that idea.
If he wants to go on camera and talk about hunting wild boar in the woods of east Texas, that's his prerogative. If he wants to allow them to film him in the very RV park in which we reside, and then let them film him digging a wild boar ham out of our freezer to give them, he needs to consult with the other person who shares the home with him and parks her car outside said home.
Who the fuck doesn't think to consult with his or her spouse before having a camera crew filming at their home?
Apparently, my Mr. Sunshine doesn't.
People, it took a long fucking time for me to start feeling comfortable really opening up and sharing honestly in Narcotics Anonymous meetings. The only reason I am so comfortable sharing so much of me with the Band is because it's the Band, yo, and there is some degree of anonymity on teh interwebz.
I am still shell-shocked.
I told him it was going to cost him some shoes. Somehow, doing so makes me feel dirty, as if I have compromised my integrity or something.
And I'm still too shell-shocked to realize just how angry I truly am.
What the fuck was he thinking?