Espozilla Rides Again

 Bullying is something that is getting lots of attention, and for good reason. Bullying sucks. Bullying is a symptom of something bigger than just a mean little kid, this is a cry of someone who needs love and to feel good and the only twisted way they know to get any attention is to be cruel and belittling. I used to be bullied in middle school, by a guy named…

Ha ha, I won’t publish his name here, sorry. Social media is a MONSTER and I know for a fact that he is on FB because one fine day, I confronted him on his shit treatment of me as a child (yeah I know, whatever, but 11 is a child. I was a child. I was a child!)

Anyway, because this is my blog and I get to tell this story, because this is MY story, I will give you a run down of all the shit I remember him doing to me:

  • Creating the (admittedly now awesome, but at that time, horrific) nickname of ESPOZILLA.
    (Keep in mind I had a horrible crush on him, and him calling me Espozilla was basically the worst thing to happen to me in my life, ever!)
  • Coming up with a really hurtful, yet incredibly creative song, and being too lazy to FINISH THE DAMN THING.

Ok, so it was mostly these two things. I’ve exchanged bullying stories with friends and I FULLY REALIZE IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH WORSE! Hear me out, though! These two things were on constant repeat. It went like this- every time he saw me in the halls between classes, he would say:


Or some sort of variation of this, commenting on my weight and calling me “Big Ol’ Espo” or “Big Ol’ Espozilla” and laughing/covering his mouth with a fist/laughing with his friends while high fiving each other. Because making fun of some unpopular fat girl is akin to scoring a touchdown. Cool!

Imagine my horror when as an adult my BOSS was too lazy to say my whole name and took to calling me “Espo”. UGH.

The song…the song was a doozie, and I will share it with you because I think it is important to highlight a few things: Bullying stays with you, and though I don’t cry myself to sleep about it, it did hurt while it was going on. Also, this needs to be an honest story, in order to deliver the end portion (His limp-ass “apology”)  and to highlight how they are such morons they don’t know what they do hurts, only that what they do inspires a reaction and this is the only thing that gives their pre-pubecent little dicks a boner. (Sorry if I am obsessing over this with Marilyn Manson-esque, out of school 30 years level pathetic-ness, but whatever, this is my blog, I do what I want!)

Anyway, not only was it mean, it was also RACIST! Here it goes:

“Oh Espozilla oh Espozilla/Weighs five hundred million pounds/She needs to diet/But won’t try it/Na na na na na na na!”

Sing to the tune of “La Cucaracha”. HE WOULD SING IT TO THE TUNE OF LA CUCARACHA! Because I’m MEXICAN! Get it? Ha ha ha ha ha! How clever! Five hundred million pounds, huh? How did he get into my records, how did he know it was five hundred million pounds and not four and a half million pounds?

Anyway, serve this with a side of pre-pubecent angst to a fat little girl who has shitty self-esteem. Let simmer on low for years, garnish with unattainable beauty standards. Pray feminism sets in before eating disorders/soul rot.

THIS TURD USED TO SING THIS TO ME EVERYDAY AT LUNCH (Oh delicious coincidence, you’re my constant companion!) because I needed to diet, and perhaps that gem of a song would help push me in the right direction, you know? It was all in good fun. 

So yeah, this is what I faced everyday as a 6th grader. It was the WORST. Obviously I’ve grown out of worrying about someone calling me fat-as an observation or as a dart- but it was interesting later because through a mutual friend we bumped into each other on Facebook and he said some stupid comment and I said “cool man, yeah. Awesome.” and he got BUTTHURT. I am not joking. And when I called him out for being a baby and how maybe he should suck it up because he bullied me for the better part of three years and I dealt with it he said he didn’t remember. HE DIDN’T REMEMBER! HE DIDN’T REMEMBER! HE DIDN’T REMEMBER! HE DIDN’T REMEMBER!!!! OMG HE DOESN’T REMEMBER!

Oh, he's sorry! He's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry, he's sorry!

Oh, he’s sorry! He’s sorry, he’s sorry, he’s sorry, he’s sorry, he’s sorry!

But because in this day and age, everything is forever, I will post here, for your reading pleasure his exact, word for word response: (I will bold my favorite parts!)

I don’t remember saying those things, nor do I believe that I had ever needed to. Singing anything to you isn’t of my memory, I know that I was a bully, people didn’t deserve to be treated like I was treating them, you were one of them, I am sincerely apologetic.

Ok, I bolded the whole thing. Because it was TOTAL HORSE SHIT.

And sincerely apologetic? Pfffft, denied my G, DENIED. I don’t believe it. I did get the apology and I think it was WORSE than not getting it. I was torn between offended and horrified- he literally treated me like garbage for YEARS. For him to say he doesn’t remember means he’s A) a liar or B) was such a damn bully he cannot remember who in the blur of being a gigantic poop ball on a butt hair to so many, what he said/did to me.

So yeah, bullies, apologies? Don’t hold your breath, because even if you get an apology, it may be worth NOTHING.

I should close by saying I started listening to Hole in middle school, learned how to yell at people and swear from Courtney Love and it peaked just in time for me to go to high school and be mean to people there, so there is that. But I will say I was (mostly) mean to people who were mean to me first.

Also, I remember everyone I was mean to. Including the girl I spat on. So there.


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