So it's been a while since I popped on to go totally bitch-ass crazy. It's not that I haven't had anything to bitch about, it's that I haven't had the fortitude to get online and do so without imploding. Just been a couple weeks of hell. So I am doing sooo good right now. If you can't tell I'm being sarcastic. So anyways, my husband thought it would be great to go to our N. Carolina property and go camping. I am so not a "roughing it" sort of chick. So imagine my delight when the pipe going into out camper was broken and I had to go out and squat in the woods. Good times. I might have been able to buckle down and deal with it with little complaint if I hadn't been viciously attacked by some bug that got inside my pants. It bit the shit out of me. It burned like hell too! So picture if you will a pasty ass white chick hopping about the woods in her underwear after stripping off her jeans and screaming bloody murder. It was special. Needless to say we were driving home early the next morning.
So I’m recovering right now from this weekend’s dealings with the dumb asses at the garage trying to tell me that they are going charge me $935.00 to fix my air. Oh hell no! My car isn’t worth $935.00, I’ll be damned if I allow those bitches to gouge the living crap out of me. I know I’m a chick who doesn’t know dink about cars, but those asswads already screwed me out of $237.00; it will be a cold day in Beelzebub’s lair before I let them take advantage of me again. This weekend I’ll be going somewhere else and bringing a male-creature to protect myself. Last week I also had to deal with a serious case of road rage. I’ll admit I’m not the best of drivers, but I sure the hell am not the worse. I am not a rager either. It’s too dangerous to screw around on the road. Sure I get angry at other drivers, but I never go on a vendetta to make them pay for making me mad. Anyways, this is how the mess went down. I was driving behind these slow-ass SUV, but again, even though I was frustrated, I am not one to drive up another cars a$$. I get distracted too easy and don’t want to cause an accident. So the bitches get into the left turning lane and I follow behind them. Suddenly, the happy little green arrow appears. Do you think morons turn? No, their dumb butts are riding the brake messing with this and that. So I give a little honk on my horn. No biggie right? After all, we’ve all been caught at a newly green light distracted and we all have gotten a little toot of the horn. Normal people do that apologetic little wave thing that is universally recognized as a “sorry about that” and then we move on with our lives. Not these dudes. They took it personal. So as we are turning I pretty much decide that whatever lane they are going to be in I’m not going to fall behind them because they are obviously idiots. Well instead of that happening morons thought it would be great fun to cut me off. Not once. Not twice. They decided to play out there little revenge four effin times! Bitches were out for blood. By the time we pulled up to the red light side by side I was beyond controlling my temper. My inner trailer park was unleashed. So he was screaming profanities at me and I was screaming profanities at him, might I add my insults were like ten times better than his. The whole confrontation ended when I sped away. It was ridiculous and stupid. Plus that crap ruined my morning. Thank you fat bald-headed anger filled turd. Have a good effin life!
So last Friday I skipped out of work because I could barely function from dealing with a nighttime of family issues. Oh joy. Any-hoo, so I spent most of day lying like a fat whale on the couch watching daytime TV. Can I just say for the record, that while once upon a time I use to totally dig Jerry Springer, now I can’t stand the damn show? How many times can a person watch human trash slut it up and tear at each other’s weave before it becomes stale, like moldy old palmetto loaf? Mmm…palmetto loaf. Back to my original train of thought, so after watching a few seconds of Jerry I was like hell with this broke down crap and turned to . Pathetic I effin know, but didn’t I mention I felt like ass? Anyways, as I watched this dude was reciting his “rules” for the household, one which was that there was a limit to the weave allowed in his house, I thought two things. First, who the hell did dink think he was trying to enforce “his” set of rules? I would tell the crouch-face to shove it up his ass until he turns inside out. Second, I could help to think of a very embarrassing event that happened at work. Let me state up front that I am ignorant about weaves, wigs, and various other hairpieces. I never wore one nor do I go around quizzing people who wear them about them. I have better crap to do other than to obsess over effin fake hair. That being said, I work with a girl who wears one. I never really thought about it one way or another; I just know she wears this cap piece thing on the back of her head so she has long hair. So one day I walk up behind her and I notice she has this string on her shoulder. So I tell her and trying to be helpful I tried to remove it. So I go a try to yank up this stray string, but I encounter a problem. The effin thing was attached to her head! Of course me being me, I blurted out this little detail without thinking. An awkward silence ensued. It truly was a special moment for all. Damn me for trying to go against nature and be nice for once! Damn me for not have control of my mouth! I don’t get flustered or embarrassed very often, it’s not in my nature, but I swear to the baby Jesus I felt all kinds of uncomfortable after that incident. Luckily for me the pangs of emotion I feel are fleeting, and I was back to my bitchy self soon after and I learned a lesson, don’t try to be nice when it goes against the grain of your soul. It hurts! It hurts so bad!
It was disgustingly hot this weekend. I left my house like a grand total of twice. I was afraid to wander too far from the air conditioner. Who knows if I'd ever find my way back? Before I continue, can I just say I am so over the 4th of July. I swear to the sweet baby Jesus that my whole neighborhood bought out the world's supply of fireworks and decided it would be just dandy to light those bitches off at all hours of the night. I'm distracted by bright colors and sparklies just the same as the next person, but when it's 12:30 at night and I need to get up the next day for work and my dog is freaking out, I don't find all the pretty lights quite as mesmerizing. It's so not cool. So back to my original train of thought, one of my weekends outings included a trip to Wal-Mart. So I entered this one aisle where this mother was pretty much ignoring her children as they where pulling shit off the shelves unto the floor. Finally she yells at them to pick up the mess and her and her brood began to continue down the aisle. I was, unfortunately, behind them when her one child stops dead center in the middle of the aisle right in front of my cart. Since I try not to project my pure bitchiness on children, I simply said "excuse me," making sure I said it loud enough for the child to hear. I did not say it nastily, although it was very tempting to do so in my annoyance. I just wanted the kid to know I was behind him and he needed to move. Well, I should of went with my first instinct and rammed my cart into the kid whilst saying "Get the fuck out my way you effin brat," because his mother, I shall call her the banshee woman from hell, started giving me crap like I attacked her kid. She was going off about how he was going to move, and he lost his shoe or some stupid shit like that, all the while she was staring at me as I was the devil and she was a sweet angel from heaven here to save all the rude little children from my blind rage. I so wanted to go off on her white-trash ass, but then I looked at her children, her poor suffering children. I calmly said I realized that he would move and I understood that he lost his shoe and then did the hardest thing ever and simply walked away. This banshee's children already have to deal with her bitch ass every day screeching in their ears and scarring their tender minds, I decided the best course was to not contribute to their fucked up childhood and not verbally beat their mama down. It was so tough! It hurt to walk away without lashing out at her pure ignorance. It hurt to the depths of my black cold soul.
I don’t mind working. It’s true I’d rather be doing something that involves a bed and a state of undress. I’m not talking sex you pervs! I’m talking sleeping! Anyways, work is manageable if I am left alone to do my own thing, but instead I have to deal with varying degrees of jackamarasses, aka dumb ass coworkers. Being in a “professional” setting I can’t be an out and out bitch, so I get back at the rejects in small vindictive ways. Things like putting off requests as long as humanly possible or not returning calls are the usual weapons of choice. That way I’m not putting my career in danger, but I am getting satisfaction. Then there is level “pink cake.” I work in a male dominated environment, so the easiest way to show my displeasure with a coworker is to order a male coworker a pink cake for his birthday. Yes, we do cake for people’s birthday, including the god damn worse off-key rendition of Happy Birthday ever. Pure hell! Anyways, I know that ordering a pink cake may seem like an utterly stupid thing, but nothing says you’re on my shit list more than pink icing. Maybe a very secure man could deal with the ribbing from their fellow coworkers, but lucky for me, I haven’t found that man yet. Simple things can sometimes be the most wonderful twisted of things. Beware the ire of the Bitch in Pink.
P.S. I like to make up my own words in the heat of a very intense rant. Sometimes the words stick and become apart of my daily verbiage. As I begin to introduce these words into my blogging I will also provide a definition at the bottom of my latest rant. This is not because I’m considerate, but because I want you to know what the fuck I’m talking about in case I’m bitching about you.
Bitch in Pink Vocab: Jackamarass (the plural shown above)
Pronounced: Jack-ah-mah-rass
Definition: Jack asses otherwise known as the most annoying, stupid waste of space fucking people on the planet.
Use: Billy, you jackamarass, you pissed on the toilet seat again!
1. So First off I’m going to spend a couple seconds bitching about effin spam. I’m so sick of these bitches sending me advertising for diet shit and fancy pills to cure everything from lack of sexual desire to thinning hair. Asswads, if I was experiencing erectile dysfunction I sure the hell wouldn’t fucking turn to some damned quacks on the internet that spend their days forwarding advertisements and staring at internet porn. Shit, I’m not even a dude, so quit sending me crap to “enhance” my love life.
2. Let me just reiterate the fact that I effin hate everything and everyone. So please explain to my why the skittle-brained reject in the back office insists on telling me personal shit about his life? I DON’T CARE! I don’t care about you. I don’t care about your wife who has obvious mental issues plainly exhibited by the fact her dumb ass not only married you, but then decide to procreate with you to the chagrin to the world at large. Dude, seriously, I’m at work, and as much as it crushes my black dead soul, I have to be nice to you, but that don’t mean I like you. I don’t want to hear about your trip to visit your grand kids. I don’t give a flying frick about what you inhaled for dinner the night before. In fact, don’t talk to me. I can’t stand your grating voice.
3. Finally, to the butt-munches that “fixed’ the air conditioner in my car: FUCK YOU! Whatever you claimed you did you obviously didn’t do because a month later the shit aint working! Do you know how god damned hot it is in Florida right now? I swear to god its so effin hot in my car that I can actually feel my nipples melting! You heard me – my nipples are melting in my shitty oven on wheels! Seriously, I get out of my car and not only do I smell like a god damn turnip, I’m dripping wet. I’m not talking the glistening light chick sweat. I’m talking the full on butch-ass nasty sweat. I look straight out of a horror film with my god damn face melting off! It is so not effin pretty. I hope all you bastards rot in hell for taking advantage of my auto ignorance. At least there you’ll fully appreciate all the suffering you dickweeds put me through!
So there is this dude here at work that offered to take my coworker and me out to lunch. So me being me, I hesitantly accepted, but I couldn't help but wonder what the hell he really wanted. Everyone seems to have a god damn agenda. This guy was no different. He wanted a captive audience, (Literally!) so he could ramble on and on about how frick'n awesome his damn self is. Why the hell didn't I drive my own ass to the restaurant I really don't know. I could spared my ass tons of grief! I'm normally smart enough to allow myself a escape route. This time I was trapped! Stupid! Anyways, I had to listen to his dumb ass talk about his travels, his house that he bought out-right with cash, the excellance of his neighborhood including how much every house was appraised at, and how he made tons of money flipping effin houses. Shut the hell up dude! You're not impressioning me or anyone else at the table. I just wanted to eat my god damned shitty-tasting food in peace. (Note to self: never eat at that fucking place again.) Oh, and on the way back he kept going on about he wasn't use to all the luxury features of his Ford Sport Trac. What? This dude is effin delusional. First off the truck is second hand. There is nothing wrong with that, but he is acting like he's showing off a BMW. Second, what fucking luxury features is ass seeing that I'm not? He indicated the damn outside temp display. Asswad, that aint no luxury feature! A seat that that uses your brain waves to adjust and massage your ass is luxury. The display letting you know your ass is going Southeast is not!
So I was talking to my equally bitchy sister about this kid we were forced to watch after school every day. This little kid was a major little shit head, nasty as hell and a total pain in the ass. Plus the little bastard would sneak into our rooms and steal our bras and panties! He was only like 8 or 9! Well anyways, my sister happened to bring up the tampon incident. This involved a day when I was thoroughly sick of his shitty little ass and decided that it would great fun to convince the brat that a tampon was a sucker or a candy of some sort. It didn't take much coaxing to get him to put it in his mouth with the string a dangling from between his lips. That's effin mean enough, but then we had to walk downtown to do something and he of course had to come along. The whole way there and back he had this tampon in his mouth with the string just dangling. He didn't take it out until about 20 minutes later once we were back at the house. We made him spit it out in the garbage, which he didn't wanted to do, and he asked for a new one right after. Okay I know that was effin mean and really fucked up for us to do. As much of an asshole as I am now, I would never repeat that behavior if put in the same situation. That is the kind of shit that scars kids for life. So I apologize to the now grown kid wherever he may be. It wasn't your fault you were a shitty little piss-ant who would throw shit, hit, scream, swear, and have Exorcist-style melt downs. It wasn't your fault you were pure evil spawned from Satan himself. It was you fucked up parents fault! Sorry I made you suffer for their shitty parenting! I should have made them walk downtown with a tampon string slapping their chins!
I'm not a violent person. Bitchy -- yes. Mean--oh yes. A pain in the ass -- hell yeah! I'm just not violent, though. Maybe the thought of becoming someone's bitch instead of being a bitch doesn't appeal? Maybe the knowledge that I can't fight per shit and am not too deluded to think I can is a factor? I don't know. I do know that I was seriously contemplating some major violence last night. No one likes to be woke up by a god damn dog howling at 2:30 a.m. especially when the dog continues to howl the remainder of the night and interrupts your dreams of Chef Gorden Ramsey spanking you and calling you a dirty little donkey. (I know I'm obsessed--I just love an asshole with an accent!) Anyways, I seriously wanted to drag the dog's owner out their house last night and beat them with a baseball bat repeatedly until they agreed to take care of their dog. Shit on a shingle! If you don't like your dog enough that you can't rouse from your booze induced stupor to see what the hell is wrong with it please do your effin neighbors a favor and get rid of the dog. The dog will better off too! Puppy will have a new owner, a new lease on life, and won't have to put up with your white trash trailer park ass! By the way, crawl back to the trailer park asswads and stay there -- your affecting the property values of the neighborhood!
1. My Bra -- This spandex cotten blend, underwire piece of shit is digging chunks of skin out my back! Ow!
2. The Pirate Show -- I'm not even sure if that's the show's name, but I watched like 10 seconds of this turd last night and wanted to commit suicide. Who the hell green lighted a damn reality show on effin pirates? They are severly evil to want to torture the American public.
3. The People Who Watch the Pirate Show -- What the hell is wrong with you people?
4. Cramps -- God damn it all -- the pain! The pain!
5. Wild Fires -- Thank the good baby Jesus that it is finally raining because if I had to step outside one more time and smell the stench of fire I was going to go crazy. It's like I've been living in a chain-smoker's lung for like three weeks now!
6. Traffic -- I haven't left work yet, but I know everyone's gonna be driving all rejectarded out there. It will be like they haven't ever encountered the marvel that is rain. Bitches get over that shit fast!
That's today's list in no paticular order. Oh below is a random web find to feast your eye balls upon. God it's so dumb it's good!
I only wish there was such a device as a brain wave powered luxury ass massager. It probably wouldn't matter... read more
on Lunch -- Why I hate people