Speaking personally, I was just playing.

The form, as always, is up to the individual authors.

I have always had a temper. I don't let it pop all the way very often, because when I do, I don't hit things. It would be better if I did, but I say things instead.

Doesn't sound that bad, does it? But I'm kind of a bitch when I'm not angry, and when I am -- well, all of those weaknesses, all of those secrets that people tell me, or that I've found out. . .

Just as there's more ways than one to skin a cat, there's more than one way to eviscerate a person, ways that don't involve knives and blood, but words and more pain than lies in a blade ripping through mere flesh.

I try not to lose my temper anymore. There are many things better left unsaid.

I tend to know all of them.

Erin: Damn, I was all about "Calm down!" ... until I figured out it was a drabble.

Go, Erin. Get your pen on.

It's a drabble, yeah. It's also true.

People laugh at me when I tell them I don't lose my temper often. "You're pissed off all the time!" says them. Yeah, but that's not even close.

I don't think I've lost my temper -- really lost it -- in about 10 years. I've been really angry, but not lost it.

And you know the worst part? While I'm in the midst of losing it, of ripping someone to shreds, it feels fucking FABULOUS.

OMG, Erin, a world of WROD. I try to restrain my own temper for this very reason.

yeah...the black-eyed Willow power-trip thing. Have not indulged in recent years, but I used to be good at it.

yeah...the black-eyed Willow power-trip thing. Have not indulged in recent years, but I used to be good at it.

I am erika.

And you know the worst part? While I'm in the midst of losing it, of ripping someone to shreds, it feels fucking FABULOUS.

We actually had this discussion, in the first version of this thread, awhile back.

Last time I allowed myself to physically lose my temper, the woman on the losing end sidled up to me at a gig at which Nicholas Rev.1 was playing, leaned over, and whispered in my ear "I fucked him."

I knew damned well she was full of shit. She had pulled that on every woman of her acquaintance with a musician sweetie. But for some reason, she hit a switch and there was a kind of red mist, and the next thing I was aware of was my sister trying to pull me off the chick, because I'd been pounding her head against the floor.

That was about 32 years ago. These days, when I want to carve someone to pieces, I am purely verbal and my temper stays in check.

It takes a lot to get my gander past "crying frustration" to "homicidal". I tend to cry before losing my temper, for some unknown reason. But, if I am angry and I *don't* cry? Look the fuck out. The Irish takes over and the next thing you know, it's your fault for oppressing the seven counties.

Joe saw it for the first time when I was eight and a half months pregnant and went after our neighbor. He admitted, he was terrified.

I gotta ask, Aimee -- what happened with the neighbor?