Massive Pissa dump. I've been looking through old Twitter posts.
I haven't had the time/energy/ambition to fully organize them and/or get a good write-up going.
No worries, fam. This is a treasure trove.
"I can't afford Starbucks. This is cruelty for real."
I cannot stop laughing at this.
"Rent (slum house complete with rot, mold, fallen out windows) $300"
You forgot, "hoarded cats, filth, cockroach infestation, a yard full of dogshit, and fire hazard due to flimsy extension cords," Polissa. However shitty that house may be, you're not doing a damned thing to make it better, and, in fact, are actively making it worse.
Okay, that definitively answers why she's not in Section 8 housing, and hasn't applied; they won't let her hoard animals.
"I tried withholding rent my last apartment for black mold I got evicted."
Well no, duh. If you're going to withhold rent to force your landlord to fix a problem, there's a way to do it, but simply not paying rent is
not it. You need a lawyer, because there are legal proceedings that have to be followed, and the rent being withheld still needs to go into an escrow account, to be paid once the problem is remedied. You can't just not pay it.
"I am a dreamer caught in a cage. Fins nailed to the sea floor. Wings clipped so I cannot soar. Blinders called poverty and depression to hold my path true. The years tick by unfulfilled. Talents wasted. Gifts withered. Rapids sweep me along, my grip finds no purchase. Will I drown."
That's some "Monster truck in the nightlife"-tier poetry. The title? "No Help Came." And I hear her, in my head, reading it in her thickest, most syrupy accent.
A "Spiritual self portrait," in which she is green, the color traditionally associated with envy.
Seems about right.
Woman rightly tweets about how every self-proclaimed empath turns out to be a Narcissist. Polissa, a Narcissist, then proceeds to tell her what it's like to be a "real empath." My fucking sides.
"Any friends I once poured my soul into has abandoned me."
It's not that you "poured your soul" into them, Polly; it's that you sucked theirs out and drained them dry. Don't think I haven't noticed that, while you've spent your entire life in the area you grew up in, you have NO FRIENDS. Even your hot-tempered retard of a husband somehow manages to make friends with other men, but you, yourself, have none.
"10 years ago before food insecurity, untreated diabetes, gastroparesis, and gallstones. [Josh] is 20lbs lighter now than this photo. The hospital won't treat him."
Well, lucky for him he's got you around to ensure he gets 75 grams of carbs in every meal, right? Right.
Dear god. What grown man thinks this is a good look? I thought he was wearing one of Polissa's muumuus at first glance. But given that Polissa took the picture and he doesn't look too happy, I assume she bought this...
ensemble for him.
Which brings up the point that, when you have extremely limited funds, and need to buy clothing, you at least ought to buy things that help you look like a mentally competent adult who still has a shred of dignity and self-respect.
And it’s only an acre! I’m sorry, maybe this is my being from the country talking, but if you’re talking about “family land” like she does, it needs to be a decent chunk of property. According to my googling, an acre of land in Tuscumbia is only worth like 15 - 20 thousand. That’s a Toyota Corolla’s worth of land. Her “family land”, just like everything else about her, is sad and pathetic.
I hear, "family land," and the last thing I think of is one unkempt acre with a couple of busted trailers on it. And it's not really "family land" unless the family owns it as a group, with a family trust or other long-term agreement that spells out who owns it, who will inherit it, who can use it and for what purposes, who is responsible for seeing to and paying for its upkeep, and how the family will resolve conflicts about it.
Polissa's "family land" is really just "Grandma's place." And who knows what kind of mortgage Grandma has, or what other loans she's taken out, using her property as collateral, in order to park a couple of trailers on it for her trashy hoarder daughters. I suspect that Polissa believes she's one day going to inherit this "family land," or that she can never be evicted from it, and she's going to be in for one hell of a shock after Grandma passes and the place has to be sold.
