Parents control your brats

People who want the whole world to be G-rated so they won't have to supervise their kids make me angry. Look dammit - that's why there are things and places "for adults" and "for children", and the children don’t need to be allowed to go to the places or do the things that are "for adults." So shut your freakin pie hole and get your fatass over to Chuck-e-Cheese and let them roll around in the pissy and fecal matter ridden ball pit while I have my cocktail in freakin peace in an adult environment.

It's nobody's responsibility but *yours* to make sure that Snotleigh and Brattany don't see things unsuitable for children. Don't take them to see "Silence of the Lambs", and then try to band these kind of things for everyone because its so bad for children. Pay attention to what your kids are doing, and find "children's" stuff for them, instead of taking them to places they do not have the maturity to go to or be at yet, and then whining that "it's not child-friendly." You dumbass miserable bitch.

I am not sure which I hate worse, brats or the morons who spawn them. You know the ones I mean: the parents with the glazed, uninterested look in their eyes as their five year old child continuously hits them and says "I hate you" as they stroll down the aisle of the local Wal-mart.  Or the ever so lovely , running up and down the restaurant eating sugar packets interrupting your dinner while the fuckface parents act as if the whole restaurant is their baby sitter for free so they can have a quiet meal. When will these parents ever realize that they are perhaps the ONLY people on the planet who are immune to the grating, sniveling sound of their own child's voice? I don't care about your children, not one single fucking bit.  I don't think they're cute so stop showing me dumbass pictures of your alien devil spawn because I am tired of lying about how cute they are.  Needless to say the poor spawn of satan didn’t have a chance in hell with the 2 sets of numb nuts parents he has.  I think I have a right to go out for an adult day and NOT hear the whining, assholeishness of someone else's  undisciplined, loud, future serial killer, in short, have a little courtesy for others and shut your children the fuck up!!

Oh and by the way, What the hell is with these awful names, especially for girls: BrittNeigh, Madisinn, etc.? All this does is identify your children as being the products of a sub-literate underclass. Mom definitely did not go to college, did she? Watches a lot of Oprah, does she?  Bunch of morons.  And this crap is our future.  Jeez

Heathen ass folk!

So far this week, and its only Tuesday, a plethora of fucktardery has found its way to me. Serious WTF? How in the world did some of this stupidity stumble directly into my zen path? I am trying hard to be all that is good and Junior League this week. I mean really, me I have tried to wrangle my temper and genuinely care about other people’s issues- at the very least pretending to give a crap. In short, I was trying to be a better me and I will be damned if it aint tiring as hell. My brain hurts and I sprained my middle finger trying to conceal all the middle finger salutes from all these lunatics volunteering to get ass kickings (more like tongue lashings) from me for jumping all up in my oxygen space. Well, I give up and  am going to just started handing out the slut beatings.

Ok here’s a WTH?, some whore emailed a friend of mine to let her know there was a place in hell reserved for her because she doesnt believe the way she believes and proceeded to brow beat her down with Bible verses. Well no shit, slut hole, there’s one for you , too (a place in hell that is). It’s called reality and we’re all in it right now. Ta-da! No more waiting and trying to avoid going to hell- you’re already there- it’s called mother fucking Earth! For the record; no one gives zero shits about who you choose or pretend to worship. I really don’t care. I applaud your believing in something but don’t pretend like you have been privy to some short list of what you perceive or have deemed the “non- believing heathens that are going straight to hell for eternity list”. If you know that with certainty, please go with me to buy a lottery ticket because you must be psychic! I do not want to be part of any cult/club that believes they are the end all be all of righteousness. Isn’t that sorta what religious people AREN’T supposed to do? I’m no way pretending to be religious in the churchy sense and know the inwards and outwards of the Bible, but I know enough that there are no free passes to Heaven. I believe in a higher power and his name is God. I find it a bit far fetched for you to try to pass yourself off as the judger of humankind. There is a lot better of a selection that God would have to choose from.   So let’s make a deal: I will respect your thoughts and beliefs but if you don’t show me the same courtesy, I will blog about you and use your real name. But for now I will just call you HAB (heathen ass bitch) Slutbeating to come if you keep it up!

Quit Posting dumbass shit on Facebook.

Ok, WTH?  Why do dumbasses continue to post crap and do stuff no one cares about on facebook.  No one gives a shit about your ailments. You sound like a douche canoe that can’t handle life. “So And so is sick of this sprained ankle”, “Bitch Tits is not feeling good, time to up the dosage haha" (Yeah up it until you are so comatose you are unable to post stupid ass shit.“Waa fucken waa”, shut the fuck up. What are you looking for? Sympathybook? An iBandage? An eHug? Get bent!  Another thing, There’s already enough horse shit on Facebook. Agriculture and computer technology don’t mix! Fucking stop it dumbass, how old are you! NEWSFLASH! You cant feed sheep and grow crops on the internet,  get a life and take care of shit around your house that has been thrown to the wayside because your busy being a fictious farmer!  You're a fuck! Oh and when you do something all risque by putting your little thumbs up to "likes sex" You’re not special. The human race is upwards of 6 billion because of sex, not because of a Facebook slut bag. Of course you like sex, we’re designed to. Stop being a gutter slut by pretending to be some sex machine.  Stop joining “I WILL NOT PAY TO USE FACEBOOK. I NEED 1 MILLION PEOPLE TO JOIN ME” groups. Facebook subsides with joint partnerships and advertising schedules that generate millions of dollars. They don’t need your fucking money, damn numb nuts. Use your brain for just a tiny bit for God’s sake before clicking on things. Really?  No Really?  and one last thing, stop posting "sexy" fish lip pictures of yourself because you think you are so hot.  Get over yourself loser because seriously, if you were so hot you would be too busy out with REAL people and not at home taking pictures of your self in your bathroom mirror (thats needs windex by the way).

The dreaded GYNO Appt!

A few weeks ago I remembered that one of my penalties for being a bitchtastic woman, was the good ole fashioned crotch diggin we have to endure while the doc makes idol conversation doing so wearing a damn miners helmet.  Really?  So now you want to start a conversation?  I finally went three weeks ago, I waited because I dreaded the “ok you’re gonna feel a little pressure” and “this may pinch a bit” comments.   Mostly dreading the splayed out appearance in front of a complete stranger, but hey the blanket they give you to cover, oh I don’t know, your fucking stomach is great.  You never hear any and I mean any woman come out of those rooms and comment, how oh freakin awesome that experience was. Seriously- I’ve never heard one comment remotely close to ”I wanna do it again- and soon!”.   Anywho, So I get there and check in and take head count of the thirty people sitting in the lobby. Freaking Great, this will take like a freakin decade. The loud inconsiderate bitch young lady at the counter asks me why I am there. Oh I don’t know, I saw the cold coffee and Bill Cosby reruns and had to stop in and indulge.  “I’m here for my yearly pap”. She asks me what kind. Um, Is this a pop quiz? “A regular one I suppose”. She proceeds to let her coworker, and everyone in the lobby, know that I didn’t know what kind of pap I needed. So I look at the two girls and say “Sorry, i’m not a doctor. I just play one in bed”. I guess I was a little loud because when I turned around to grab a seat, everyone was looking at me. Shit! I hope no none had x-ray vision because they will see that my blue leopard print bra does not match my hot pink panties and if they can see, those fuckers better give me a tip. Just sayin’.  So the crotch diggin goes off without a hitch and the doctor tells me that she’s gonna leave the room so I can get dressed.  Really?  Look heifer, I was just splayed out, ankles in some cold stirrups while you had an eyelash curler jammed up my crotch and now you want to give me some private time to throw my pants back on?  After that display, who really gives a shit?  Say what you gotta say so I can get the hell outta here. Someone could have at least offered me a glass of wine. Jack Asses. It was also uncomfortable to have some lady I have never seen before, and hope I never do again, all up in my business handling the girls like they were juggling balls. I didn’t get tips for that little encounter either.  Any way, the doc comes back in and said she will call me if anything comes back suspicious. Suspicious?  Really?   Suspicious like a hooker in a pair of Manolo Blahniks? Like a man dressed in black creeping outside a window? “ No”, she states, suspicious like I would have to return for a biopsy. Geeez, now I REALLY need wine!  So I call my sister and we pretty much decide that all gyno’s are retarded because no matter what comes next, life goes on!

Gangsta Assclowns Be gone!

You know what, I declare a moratorium on the gangsta assclowns. Nope, open season is a more permanent solution. You know them, those gangsta wanna bes that are hopelessly delusional and seriously believe the world is revolving around them and the rest of us are their live, and too annoyed to laugh audience. They generally can be spotted walking along many thouroughfares, parking lots or just leizurely strolling across four lanes of traffic at any time of the day. Coincidentally, they can not spot you because they are focusing holding a wad of their denim in a ball with their right hand while doing the pimp stroke with the other, in an oh so classy fashion. This situation has distracted them from the speeding kamafuckingkazi traffic around them and their ability to pay attention to someone other than themselves. What? No job? Cant be because of that awesome "I can run your company attire". Every CEO wants Mr. dumbfuck that doesnt have the intelligence to understand proper clothing size or how a belt works to run their company. Seriously, WTF? Where are you going with your pants around your kneecaps looking like a total assclown?

The 'Gangstas' wannabes... Are kids that wear their pants below the equator and still ride to school with his parents. That does not make you a gangsta... pull up your pants jack hole! Or maybe you suffer from a severe form of stubbilegs-torsolongitis which is a rare disease characterized by extremely long torso and extremely short legs so if that is your "disability" you have an actual excuse but what about your gangsta counterparts? Let's just say, if your underwear is showing, or your butt crack is showing, then you should probably invest in an item that has been around for years, to correct the problem. It's called a BELT. It slides in those little loops that encircle your pants and it's usually made of leather and latches through a buckle located on the front. A belt usually has many holes in it to avoid those constant weight gains and losses due to your addiction to crack cocaine, therefore making the belt easily adjustable and avoiding those dreadful droops. The cost in nominal, but if you can't afford to buy one because of the constant aggrevation of buying crack, then a simple rope will suffice. If this is your choice, a simple square knot will secure it, once again, this is also fully adjustable. If any of this is confusing, find someone older than 35 and ask them for help in understanding this confusing concept, I'm sure they'll be more than happy to explain. Once mastered, you'll find it easier to walk to the local crack pusher, run from the cops, and get an actual job. Maybe I'm just being a bit bitchtastic but I have to be honest and say that Im confused by this whole "I want everyone to see my skid marks" mentality. I am just not in that particular fucktarded club because I actually know how to wear my clothing in the manner in which they were intended. or maybe everyone is becoming more nostalgic and bringing back the scrunched leggin look. FAME!! .