There's Always A Bitch

This is probably bad timing, but I'm going to write about it anyway.

First, I'd like to apologize to my readers for the absence.  I told you already my job is trying to kill me, I think you think I'm joking.  I see alot of you have been visiting, and I thank you for checking in!

So I'm watching the news here and this man is on trial for attempting to murder his attorney wife.  The reason?  He was living a double life and needed to rid himself of his wife so he could pursue his new life with this bitch.

So, why do I say there's always a bitch?  Because there always is! Watch any episode of Snapped where the man tries or succeeds in killing the woman.  99% of the time it's because he's having an affair and needs to be freed of the ol' ball and chain.  99% of the time.   All I've got to say about that, is that mistress must have some goooooooooood pu$$y!  Any woman who can make a man kill is working with something and should be hosting classes at the local university.  

But aside from that, why do people think they can actually get away with this?  It like....doesn't fit into 2012. We have iPads now for god's sake, why are we still killing people?  Haven't we come a litter  further?  I believe it's a combination of a strong lack of checking in, poor breeding, and people who are just plain crazy.  We gotta pray yall.

The Olympic Trials

So the Olympic Trials are on and, much like the Super Bowl, I'm not particularly glued to my television.  I hear there's some real talent out there this year though, and I just might tune in for the gymnastics.

I did manage to catch a few track and field events, and aside from the javelin which looks like a massive spear of death just waiting to land in somebody's temple, I became intrigued by the sprinters and runners.  These men and women are nothing but muscle and speed.

It made me realize that anyone who can run that fast, who desires to run that fast, and who practices running that fast, regularly, has issues.  Think of the amount of pending energy inside a person like this..  They have got to get that shit out of their system somehow honey, and tonight it might be on your face, or worse.

Would you really want to date a man who can run that fast?  Surely there are some scenarios where this would not be beneficial..... I suppose maybe they date each other because who else would really understand?

Magic Mike

There is a God.  And this god is still hand-crafting specimens for our viewing pleasure.  Tonight I had the pleasure of seeing Magic Mike and let me tell you

I have to get a boyfriend.  There was far too much meat.....far too many flips.....and far too much height for one single girl to handle.  I'm pretty sure I almost passed out a few times.  I think I left that theater pregnant.

What will be interesting is to see how many babies will be born around March 29th of next year....

Who's Gonna Feed That?

Aside from men who happen to be tall and fine, I used to have a thing for "big" men.  Big in the muscular/athletic sense, and the bigger, the better.  My favorite weight was anywhere between 225 and 250.

Well, after dating a few big guys you begin to realize that it's not all it's cracked up to be.  Big men generate a lot of heat.  Big men tend to bump into things and break stuff on accident. Big men take up a lot of space in the bed.  Big men are heavy.  Big men have big clothes which equals big laundry.  And last but not least, big men have even bigger appetites.  Son, who in the hell is gonna feed you?

Can you imagine what your average grocery bill would look like?  And you expect me to produce three or more meals for you, every day? You're out of your mind.  You've got to be doing some real impressing for me to run a small cafeteria out of my house.

P.S. I ran into Mr. Tall and Fine the other day, and I am happy to report, he hasn't gotten any shorter!

Prostitutes

Yup.  You are.  So am I.  And so is everyone who is not doing what they really want to be doing to earn money and make a living.

Think about it, how does a prostitute spend her days?  She spends her days trolling the streets, looking for Johns to turn tricks with.  For money.  Now do you really think that's what she wants to be doing all day?  Hell no! She'd probably be thankful to get the job you're complaining about.  But that's not the point.  The point is, she's applying her efforts and her energy towards something she'd really rather not be doing. For money.  And so are you.

My goal in life is to stop turning tricks for these large corporations and become the Pimp in my own life.  However, as it stands right now, I'm the one being pimped.  I'm told when to show up and when I can leave.  I'm told when I can eat and for how long.  I'm told how to act, and if I act out, I get the pimp-hand-strong.  I'm told how much money out of my paycheck I get to keep.  I have to beg for days off.  If I go missing, my pimp will come looking for me.  And if I really piss my pimp off, he'll make sure no other pimps in the area will take me under their wing.

So you see, it is vital that I make the transition from being a prostitute who does it for money, to that more of a whore, who does it for fun!

Psycho By Design

Greetings dear readers and birdies!  My apologies for the extended absence.  I do believe my job is trying to kill me, and only recently have I been able to dig my way out from under all of the work and get back to you all!  We've got a lot of catching up to do, so strap in.

Like I said, I do believe my job is trying to kill me, but I'm not gonna let them.  The workload has increased to levels that are essentially unmanageable--for one person anyway.  What's worse is that my caretaker aka boss is particularly tightly wound these days.  If I didn't know better, I'd think he was on some of the best speed money can buy.

As I watch him zip-lining around the office, I can't help but feel sorry for him, because I'm pretty sure he wasn't born this way; he was created.  He was created out of the general insanity that is Corporate America.  It's hard to manage that many humans and that much data.  Pretty soon it all becomes a massive dragon, chasing its own tail, scorching itself in the process.

My biggest hope for myself and all of you, is to one day enter a career where I have control over what my hands, heart, and mind are doing, all day long.  When you don't, and if you aren't right now, you, me, and everyone else are essentially...

Jolt

Chevy has been running a lot of commercials for the Volt lately, a gas/electric hybrid that gets 42 miles or more to the gallon.  I usually resist the urge to cave into advertising, but with gas being as high as it is, I had to learn a little bit more.

I stumbled across a YouTube video of an ordinary guy reviewing his new Volt.  He showed us the interior of the car and how its dash is setup, he showed us the trunk space, and even showed us how the car charges.  While it was all very cool and the car itself is very cute, damn all that, can this shit take a hit??  

Really, this is the only relevant question anyone should be asking when it comes to buying a car.  Fuck the brand name or the paint job or the fuel efficiency, Can This Shit Take A Hit?  Some very expensive cars are actually very expensive death traps.  One hit and it's gonna fold up like a candy wrapper.  And let's not even get on the subject of smart cars...  A strong wind looks like it could take one of those away.

Look your dealer square in the eye and ask him this question next time you go car shopping.  Matter of fact, ask them to produce photographs of the same make and model, recently wrecked.  See how they held up.  With all of the non-driving that's happening out there on the road today, you're gonna want this to be your top priority.

You Don't Grow Out Of Crazy

I have a friend who is really going through it with a coworker of hers.  The woman is basically a ranting, raving lunatic who is functional enough to hold a steady job and manage day to day life.

My friend is puzzled at this woman's behavior because of her age.  "She's 49 years old for god's sake! When is she ever gonna grow up?"  It was then that I had to clue my friend in on one of life's many lessons and said, "Sweetheart, you don't grow out of crazy."

And you don't.  If anything, you grow into it.  As a people get older, they gain more freedom to be just as crazy as they want to be.  Who's gonna stop you from being crazy in the privacy of your own home?  Exactly.

So, if you find yourself in a situation with a person whom you suspect to be crazy, and it doesn't seem to be improving, please know that it's not going to, and you might as well get out while you can!

Sympathy Level

In life, we all make mistakes.  Nobody is perfect, and we all fall from grace from time to time.  For this reason, I tend not to judge too harshly, for we are all human.

That being said, there are times when I may not be judging you, but my sympathy level for you drops and hovers right around zero.  Recently, a woman was "mauled" by cheetahs at a South African reserve.  I say "mauled" because she is alive and well, and did not suffer any life-threatening injuries.  Really, they just chewed on her a bit.

Initially, my sympathy level was at 10, because I thought it was some sort of freak accident.  However, upon getting more details about the story, my sympathy level dropped to about a 2.  Apparently, the people told her these were "tame" cheetahs, and that it would be perfectly fine to pet them, kneel down by them, and rub their heads.  So she did.  And look what happened.

Bitch, are you out of your mind?  Those people could have told me they were deaf, dumb, and blind cheetahs and I still wouldn't have gotten my ass in there with them.  What part of that picture looks safe to you?  And since we're on the subject of pictures, her husband stood there and took pictures of the whole incident instead of jumping in there and saving his wife!  What, did he think it was cute?  Was he happy his wife was about to be offed by some cheetahs?  Whatever the reason, my sympathy level is now at 0.

So you see folks, when you make remarkably dumb decisions, or when you keep making the same dumb decisions, over and over again, it makes it very hard for people to feel sorry for you.  Just sayin.

Musical Porn

Much of today's music has officially made the transition from being "freaky" or "sexual" to just plain nasty.  Disgusting.  Perverted, even.

Have you stopped to listen to the lyrics of some of these songs lately?  It's like listening to musical porn.  Some of the things these "artists" are saying don't really serve any meaningful purpose to the song.  Nope, it's only there to illustrate just how deep the perversion goes.  I'm all about creativity, and if you've just gotta be nasty, can you at least do so in a creative fashion?

Now, if you're an avid reader of the blog, you know that I am no prude by any stretch of the imagination.  But there are songs that come on that make me frown up and change the station.  They also make me want to spit.  I seriously can't believe some of these people have record deals.  What's even sadder, is that some of these "artists" were actually on top of their game at one point in time, and have sunk to incredibly new lows.  

If I were the producer on some of these tracks, I'd have to ask my "artist" if they were feeling okay.  I certainly wouldn't want them around my daughters.  Don't you feel like a perv when recording, editing, and mastering this?  You should!  Furthermore,

If I hear one more song devoted to how you're going to "beat the pu**y up, I think I just might scream.  Or cry.  With all due respect, child boo, what else can you do?  You're probably the same one who's going to serve up 7 minutes of pitiful sex, if that.  Please spare me and everyone else involved.

{Sigh}  Someone wake me up when they start making real music again.