Tag Archives: bitch

Did he just call me an asshole?

28 Apr

I can be a real bitch sometimes. But if you’ve read any of my writing then you already knew that.  Writing about how I feel in my own personal blog isn’t what makes me a bitch though.  I may sound like a bitch or an asshole but it’s not that observable in everyday life.  I like to think I have common decency.

But besides that, it got me thinking about the first time I was sincerely told I was acting like an asshole.  Believe it or not, it was only about two years ago.

I met a guy through a mutual friend and was instantly attracted to him.  Blue eyes, blond hair, nice build –you know the type.  We can call him Johnny. Johnny was hot but also unavailable. Fuck. I may be a bitch, but I am not a home wrecker.

After troubling circumstances with a guy I was currently dating, my friends and I went to one of our favorite bars for a girls night out.  I have never been a big fan of girls only night, probably because I am a big fan of hot men. But whatever. I have great girlfriends and we already have our buzz on so we arrive at the bar feeling quite chipper.

I’m ordering a drink and who do I run into?  That answer is obvious.

Girl time will have to wait.

I’m drunk, newly alone and hungry for male attention.   My goal was to find a rebound boy. But Johnny was the last person I expected to see there. I hadn’t seen him in over a year.   He approaches me. He tells me how great I look. We talk.  He is single now.

According to them, my girlfriends are sitting at the table watching us from across the room.  They pretend like my love life is a wildlife mating documentary and begin commenting on our body language and what our next moves will be.  The show would be appropriately named Bitch on the Prowl.  They predict my signature hair flip.  This signifies that I am going in for the kill.

Johnny and I exchange numbers.  The bartender is making last call. We realize we are the last ones in the place, my friends are waiting for me in the car. We kiss goodbye. I’m pretty satisfied with myself. I did good.

The next day he calls me and invites me over. I decline. The day after that he calls me and invites me over.  I accept.

I get to his house and am blown away by the immaculate and pristine accommodations. I knew he was hot, but dang, he must have money, too.  Not to mention, I am greeted by the cutest puppy in the whole world.  I think it was an American Bulldog, but I’m not a fucking dog specialist and I already had a few drinks to calm my nerves, so it could have been a miniature pony for all I know.

He asks if I want to go to a local bar and meet up with his friends to play some pool.  As I mentioned earlier, I was still hung up on another guy.  My sole intention was to use Johnny as a coping mechanism and to forget about my recent failure at love.   Looking back, I think I was a tad more drunk than I realized and I slightly regret this decision.  Here’s a good-looking guy who wants to take me out and introduce me to his friends, and what do I do?  I avoid it at all costs. Go out in public? Meet his friends? I’m not ready for that kind of commitment.   I insist that we stay at his house and “watch a movie”.  I am destined to die alone.

Then he says he just got home from work and wants to take a quick shower.  Good, shower it up. I like a clean man. So, while he is in the bathroom washing his balls, I am sipping a beer and canoodling with the pup on his bed.  He comes out of the shower in basketball shorts and lays down next to me. We start flipping through the channels looking for something to watch when we start kissing.

Everything is going great.  Foreplay has begun.

I’ll spare you the details.  To my surprise a few minutes into it, he finishes.  He sighs and grunts his satisfaction.  He gets up to go to the bathroom. I ask him through a closed door “is that it?”.  No response.  For the love of fornication! I still have my pants on!

Moments later he comes back out and lies on the bed next to me.  I think he can see the disappointment seeping out my pores.  I looked like a fat 8 year-old who just dropped their ice cream cone.

I look at him too, he looks discouraged.  I ask him whats wrong.  He says and I quote “we took things too fast.” In my mind I’m thinking, no! YOU took things too fast! I did everything right, apparently too right!   But instead I blurt out “Why? It’s not like we are going to start dating or anything.”  His face went blank, and then quickly transformed into rhino stampeding pissed when he said “that’s the SECOND ASSHOLE THING YOU’VE SAID TONIGHT!” I blushed and gave him a confused face and gently asked “what was the first?”  

He  stormed into the bathroom again. Maybe I should just haul the mattress in there. Seriously, talk about a role reversal.  Some people just don’t understand the concept of reboundism.

I waited a few minutes and then yelled to him “I guess I’ll let myself out!” I think he could hear me arguing with the dog because he came out and was like “you’re leaving?”.  As much as I enjoy getting called an asshole and watching you lock yourself in the bathroom, the party has to end some time.  “I have to get up for work early tomorrow.”

He opens his front door and the puppy escapes and starts following me.  He SCREAMS for the puppy to come back.  The puppy does not respond well to commands. Or threats. I am scared for the puppy.  I’m standing at my car door and Johnny has to physically come retrieve the puppy to prevent it from jumping into my car.

The night ended in a fashion that I like to call fucking awkward.

Follow the Yellow Bitch Road.

21 Jul

As my stats number increases I often wonder how these people stumbled upon my lonely, little blog out of the infinite sites available to them on the World Wide Web. Who are they and what are they like?  I had a feeling I might appeal to the annoyed, the sarcastic, and obviously the bitchy.

As luck would have it, WordPress just so happens to reveal what some of these viewers typed into a search engine that ultimately lead them to my page.  Some were my target audience,  sadly the most rare. Other search topics just made me laugh.  And then there are simply the ones that made me want to give up on writing altogether.

Let me elaborate.  The following queries, I shit you not, are what people are actually searching for (spelling and all).  And they landed on my page!  Clearly, I have a problem and it’s my writing.

The Expected

-bitchtastic Bitches

Possibly they have been to my page before?

-how to get rid of an annoying bitch

Easy one, write a blog post about her.

-truthful bitchy rants

Right on.

-tired of stupid people at work.

Ditto.

-I’m a good enough person to forgive you, but not stupid enough to trust you.

I like you.

-I bitch therefore I am

I like you even more.

Hahahaha. 

-You know you suck when even your mom unfriends you on facebook.

-loving my work status for facebook

Pathetic.

-signs your incredibly boring

If you’re bored enough to search for the signs then you are a fucking Boron. A Boring Moron.

-your spouse sucking the life out of you

-Life sucks when you have a good heart.

-life sucks without sex

-whats wrong with the world

-fuck is also important in our life.

Fuck yeah.

 

WTF?

-i wonder what normal people think about

I wonder why there aren’t more normal people reading my blog.

-when live sucks jump

WTF? I have never been an advocate of suicide.  Annoying people should not kill themselves. They just shouldn’t breed.

-big boobs ugly face

I need something funny, but insulting for the insecure girls stalking on facebook

-Red traffic light hooker

facebook stalking… i wish you would update more

-real boob

 

WTF? ON CRACK

-Open your mouth a purse falls out

WTF does that even mean? Eat a sandwich like a normal person.

-Wife thinks im a idiot for going bald

I don’t recall ever doing a post on hair restoration or how it may affect your brain function.  Perhaps your wife thought you were an idiot all along.

 

There is more but I think you get the idea.   Anyway, no matter how you found your way here I am glad you made it.

I am here for an oil change, not a date.

22 Feb

I am not going to answer

You can call, but I won't answer.

It seems like I can’t go anywhere these days without getting hit on.  Yes, most of the time it is flattering but nonetheless inappropriate.  And also awkward.  I feel the need to tiptoe around town avoiding the guys working in certain places that have blatantly flirted with me.  The most recent occurrence of this really made me laugh at his methods.

I take my car into the dealership I bought it from for service.  They instruct me to go sit in the waiting room until it’s time to surgically remove my arm and leg to pay for the oil change.  I walk in and of course there’s the usual mixture of snacks in a basket, like crackers, cookies, donuts, — anything I shouldn’t even be eyeing if I want to be ready for bikini season.  Eh, fuck it, I grab some peanut butter crackers because they’re free and I might be a nice bitch but I am also a broke bitch.  College is expensive, ya heard? I think I will make that my next post. lol.

In walks this hefty man, I’m guessing around 30 years old.  He kind of reminded me of Randy Jackson.  He asks me what I am waiting for.   Well, I have a dry mouthful of peanut butter crackers and normally I wouldn’t dare speak with my mouth full but every time I walk into this wallet-emptying-hell-hole I seem to say ‘fuck it” a lot more than I usually do.  So, there is no way I can be appealing trying to answer his boring,  just-leave-me-to-my-crackers-and-iphone-please, stupid questions.  Finally, he hands me his card and says he is being paged and has to take care of something important.  Well, aren’t you just Mr. Big Deal?  Thank God, now I can eat my crackers in peace and text my friends how annoying the guy that works here is.

You guessed it, Mr. Big Deal walks back in and sits down on the couch next to me.  You think this may have tipped him off but apparently not — I ask him “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for sitting here with me?  Don’t you have something you should be doing?”  He smirks and replies “Didn’t you read my card?”   Um, obviously not.  So I dig through my suitcase/purse to find the card I carelessly threw in there. A few minutes pass. lol. I pull out his card and read that he is the Sales Manager. Wow, he is a big deal.   And!!! (I know we don’t like excessive use of exclamation points but I am just that excited!!!!) His card reveals his name is “Big John”. HAHAHAHAHAHA. No.  You shouldn’t have a ‘big’ in your name unless you are a Pro Wrestler, Porn Star, or dating Carrie on Sex and the City.   And do I even need to elaborate that it’s on his business card?  The only big part about him is his belly… and his head. He proceeds to ask me how old I am and I tell him to take his best guess. He says 25. And I pretend to be slightly offended and tell him I am younger than that (by a year. lol).

At this Point I am just talking to him solely for entertainment purposes.  He tries to recover from the age insult by saying that I carry myself like a woman on a mission.  Make that a bitch on a mission and I might forgive you.  Then he offers to take me on a ‘test drive’ to help pass the time.  I am playing into his antics now and I tell him bring me the biggest, baddest truck on the lot.   During the short drive, he begins to interrogate me on what I am studying in school, what kind of truck my boyfriend drives, where I like to go for dinner, etc.  As much as I try to steer the subject back to the truck, he puts the pedal to the metal back to the subject of me. Ugh. But, I did end up giving him my number, but only because I am a nice bitch.  I like to tell it how it is but without intentionally hurting others.  But he called me and I never answered.  I don’t think that is the first time that has happened to him.

I just don’t know where these guys get off thinking it’s okay to approach customers in this fashion.  Car salesman have a bad rep as it is.  And now I feel uncomfortable going back there.  I mean, at least if I do see him I will still get some free crackers out of it.

The truth is, I’m flattered that you like me, but insulted that you think you have a chance with me.

Chocolates go on Sale tomorrow!!

14 Feb

Happy Valentines Day!

Love,  the bitchy truth

I’m not single, I am my own Boss.

13 Feb

It’s almost Valentines Day otherwise known as Single-people-can-go-fuck-themselves-because-obviously-nobody-else-wants-to Day.   Clearly,  it’s one of my favorite holidays of the year.  Between the flowers, candy, and other overpriced bullshit, I can hardly contain myself.  If you can smell sarcasm it’s because I’ve been soaking in it.  And it’s not that I’m a lonely old, bag lady.  I’m not jaded. I absolutely believe in love.  I have a heart, even if it is cold.

I just feel that love is misunderstood.  I want to slap people all day because of the mindless, dim-witted, dickshit decisions they make.  And then they want to blame their desperate acts of retardation and rejection on being blinded by love.  Your girlfriend was impregnated by your best friend.  I think it’s safe to say she doesn’t love you, or even like you.  And it’s probably because you’re a low-self esteem, doormat, who can’t say no.  Take a bitch’s advice and hop off that hoe train.  Unfortunately, my advice won’t be taken and they will continue their long, tragic, on and off again, mind torture they call a relationship.  I hope you really enjoy that mess of a broad and banging the cold, worn out cavern gaping between her forever spread legs.  And don’t worry, the clap is totally curable.

If that’s what love is, I don’t want any.

Of course, there are some decent couples out there.  They actually make me sicker than the doormat folk.  But it’s only because life isn’t fair.  Some of us have to wait to find love.  Wait, and wait, and wait, and fucking wait.  But that’s okay, I spend my waiting time being fabulously single, enjoying my freedom to bitch at anybody who crosses my path.  Because while love can be great and all, with love and relationships come rules.  And bitches don’t like rules, unless we are the ones enforcing them.

As soon as you commit to someone things naturally progress into owning one another.  A Marriage Certificate is just a fancy term for Bill of Sale.  Congratulations on your wedding! You’ve just become property.

1. You spend all your time together.  There’s only one person I can spend every second of my life with, and that’s me!  And I can only handle that because I drink a lot.

2. They constantly want to know where you are, what you’re doing and who you are with.   Well since you asked, I’m apparently on a short leash, waving goodbye to my freedom with the warden himself.

3. They think they can go through your phone. Bitch, touch my phone and we are finished. I’ve got way too much to hide.

4. You have to pretend to like what they like.  Golf? I can’t even fake it.

5. They get comfortable with you.  Comfortable is so unattractive. Sweat pants? Burping? Pooping? Absolutely not.   That’s why I always look out for others and try to make them as uncomfortable as possible.

6. You have to buy them stuff.  If I have to buy you a gift to reciprocate you buying me a gift then that counteracts the thoughtfulness of you buying me a gift because we might as well just buy our own shit.  So keep the gifts coming but I won’t be buying you anything because that way what you bought me will mean more.  You don’t have to understand it. Trust me, I’m right.

So, somebody should call the Nobel Prize people because I just disproved the theory that Love is Blind. It’s not blind, it’s stupid.  It’s all heart and no brain.  But there is no denying that it’s out there. Just waiting to get you in its grasp so it can eat your mind and soul.  Happy Valentines Day Bitches!

Then again, maybe love is blind, because it obviously hasn’t seen how incredibly fantastic I am.  All I know is I plan to spend this Valentines Day following my heart and spending it with the person who brings the most satisfaction to my life.  My bartender.

Love can’t be controlled.  You can’t live with it, you can’t live without it. It’s unstoppable. Love is your boss.   And your boss is a BITCH. ya dig?