Bitch Face

Okay kids, I have been a bit introspective as of late which has, as usual yielded nothing enlightening. But just now as I was writing my book(which I promise is just a load of crap and the sexual fantasies of a 30 year old on a super long dry spell) I had another couch inspired epiphany.


I suffer from the heartbreak of Bitch Face. What is Bitch Face you ask?

And to that I reply:  Really?


Really?


No, for real. Really?


Suffice it to say I walk about my normal day, not bothering anybody, constantly being told to “SMILE” and “CHEER UP” by strangers. Or as I call them when assaulted with these exclamations assholes. Yeah, yeah I know such language from a genteel southern lady, but what can I say I call them like I see them.

But seriously I really don't know what leads people to think that this is at all welcome or in any way helpful. In my experience this just turns me into the Incredible Hulk of Bitchiness. One minute I'm fine and the next I'm RARRGH!!! BITCH SMASH!

My best advice to save us all a lot of attitude is just mind your business. Seriously Mind Your Business.

Chew on that fact Folks,

A Woman of Quality

They say that a Woman of Quality will like you for you and not care how much money you have or what you do for a living. 

 

I say that's  a load of malarkey.

  Any woman, quality or otherwise, will care about how much money you have or what you do for a living if she has any kind of common sense. Times are hard these days and it would be stupid to tie yourself to anyone who has no sense of fiscal or personal responsibility. 

You just have to find that certain woman of a certain quality won't hold it against you. There is a high price to pay for the devotion of this certain woman of a certain quality that can only be paid for in gentlemanly behavior, sincerity and stability. In layman's stop being such a jackass, say what you mean and mean what you say, grow up and take care of yourself because nobody is trying to be your momma. 

Quality woman are high in demand but hard to find. Her time and attention is a privilege, not a right but of course it's the quality that makes her worth the effort.

The other side of that same coin: The Man of Integrity.

Chew on that fact folks,

Locked and loaded for bear

I'm going to get straight to the point. I do not take chances with the supernatural. I wouldn't go so far as to  say that I am superstitious but I watch a lot of horror movies and people always see to die when they check to see if something might happen.

I have rosemary growing by my door(keeps thieves and evil away). All of my doors and windows are lined with kosher salt(barrier against spirits). I own holy water(self explanatory). I could go on but if I listed all my "just in case preparations  things could get super weird.

I don't do candy man or bloody Mary. If I'm home alone and I hear a strange noise in the next moment I am most likely out the door. Knives are hidden all over my house. There is a gun taped to my headboard, a baseball bat behind my bedroom door, a sword and a pair of sai 'on display' in my living room.

I am a woman prepared for war.  Or the Zombie Apocalypse.

Chew on that fact folks,

A Couch Inspired Epiphany

I was at my favorite spot today(my couch) participating in my favorite activity(absolutely nothing) when I felt the compelling urge to tell my story.

So here goes....

Yeah. So I'm the reigning Queen of Boringville. I mean, I work in a library for the love of Mike. Anything I have to say would be positively algebraic. But I'm gonna do it anyway and the  joke's on you apparently, cause you just read most of it.

A couple of day's ago my 'work boyfriend' broke up with me. The 'work boyfriend is not to be confused with the more popular 'work husband'. Those lead to the requisite 2.5 imaginary kids and probably an imaginary dog and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.

 Now I should have seen this coming. The WBF and I started working different schedules about six months ago so we rarely see each other and after his real life marriage we'd admittedly grown apart.

But really how big of a loser can you be to be the dumpee in a pseudo-romantic relationship? 

Chew on that thought folks.