I Curse Dani Every Day

It’s deeper than a grudge, it’s ritualized hatred. For six months I dedicated myself to being a cosmic inconvenience to this fucking cunt. I woke up, drank yerba mate, cursed Dani on red paper, folded it into an origami star of bad luck, fed it to the demon statue, thanked the universe for carrying out my malediction, went about my day. Before you feel bad, I promise she deserves only damp, lumpy pillows, relentless yeast infections, every single red light ever, a mysterious leak in her shitty van, that all the crows know she’s a bad person and yell at her about it, that even the crunchy bits in her cereal are soggy, that no one ever means it when they say “I love you.”

Don’t worry, I did stop cursing Dani every day…. because the demon couldn’t hold any more, but still. Now she’s completely full of hexes and I won. Plus, as my ex ex who is her ex pointed out, Dani doesn’t need my help fucking up her love life, she does that very well herself. I guess that’s what happens when you’re an emotionally void homewrecker. Fortunately, I’m just petty.