(Translations, learn 'em: DQ: drama queen, daugher 1, LB: little b*tch, daughter 2, TFB: too f'n bad)
Happy Valentine's Day, B*tches. Love it, hate it, don't give a sh*t? However you feel about it I hope you get to spend it with someone you love, or at least don't despise.
I'm not gonna write a lame *ss Valentine's Day post, so don't worry. Put the Xanax away and breathe deep. Ok, under control now? Good. It's a frickin holiday where people can express their feelings for each other, why is there so much hype about it? Seriously, who the f*ck cares? It is kinda making me wanna puke that all of a sudden people are posting such lovey dovey bullsh*t all over facebook, twitter, and anywhere else they can. My feeling is that if you care about someone, you should let them know whenever you get the chance. I'd much rather have someone share their feelings with me on a random day when not prodded to do so by some asinine pressure they feel b/c it's a holiday. I'm not saying I don't like hearing how people feel about me, I absolutely thrive on it. Nothing makes my day more than when someone has something nice, deep, etc to share with me, and it makes me feel amazing to do the same for someone else. Just not when pushed to do so by an outside force. Get it, b*tches?
Anywhoooo....My life is going on today as it would any other day, and I'm guessing yours is too.
Rather than follow the crowd and talk about lovey dovey horsesh*t today, I thought I'd brighten your little days with some major b*tchin about random things. I'm not really sure where this is gonna go, but it should make you laugh, right? This is my love letter to you!
First of all, I'm completely jumping out of my skin because my LB now has the cold that I've been fighting all week. I'm feeling better (just in case you give a sh*t) but now both kids have it. DQ went to school, but I can't justifly taking LB anywhere. Soooo, I'm stuck in the f*cking house again. I don't know what to do with myself. I was all ready to go to the gym this morning. Since I was a lil sicky last week, I took the whole week off and I feel like a fat blob. So now, besides being confined in homebound h*ll, listening to Dora the friggin Explorer call for her stupid backpack, backpack, I feel like a gross lazy flabby b*tch, and that doesn't fare well for anyone around me. Insight # 1, I'm extremely vain, and I can go from being ecstatic to completely miserable in a second flat if I'm not feeling like I'm lookin good. If you are judging me and think that's crazy, I so don't give a crap. It's who I am, and if you don't like it, TFB.
Why am I so narcissistic when the majority of the population could give a f*ck about what I look like? I believe it all goes back to my wonderful Nana, who always had such a special way of making me feel oh so f*cking good about myself. She died a few years ago at the ripe old age of 95, but up until she was so messed up on pain pills that she didn't know one person from the next, I was the recipient of her underhanded, passive aggressive judgemental comments. For as long as I can remember, any time I would see my Nana she would have some lovely little tidbit to share with me about how I looked. Now I'm not talking normal criticism, way too easy. This was snide comments made to seem like a simple observation or question. And of course it wouldn't be the first thing mentioned, but she would look me up and down, pretend to give a crap about the answer that I was giving to her condescending questioning, and then she'd go in for the kill. "So dear, have you been working out lately?" (translation: get your ass to the gym, your muffin top is disgusting.) "Dear, your eyelashes look so long, I've never noticed that before. (You have way too much mascara on, you look like a skanky whore.) "Oh is that a new lipstick color you're wearing?" (I hate it, go wipe that f*cking paint off of your face so I can stand to look at you for the next few hours.) Then my first daughter was born, and she was the light of my Nana's life. But....she still couldn't resist sneaking in a nasty barb here and there: "Oh the baby's face is getting so round, she's so filled out!" (You have a fat kid, put her on a diet before she turns obese you dumb*ss). Nice, huh? You can only imagine the utter elation I felt when I knew we were going to see her. If only I had known about Xanax, our visits may have been a little more pleasant. Being the b*tch that I am (and always have been) I, of course couldn't let the comments go. When I was younger I would just say some smart *ss comment and walk away. As I got older, I used to try to call her out. She was good though, she totally knew how to play the game. "Dear, whatever are you talking about? I was just saying that you look lovely." Lovely my *ss, you think I look like a hideous clown face and don't have the balls to tell me! She was a piece of work, good to me in many ways, just didn't do a whole lotta good for my self-esteem.
I'm hoping that you have figured out where my need for looking good, receiving compliments, and just being told over and over again how absolutely wonderful I am (kidding) comes from. If not, you are really f*cking stupid. It is pointless for you to waste any more time reading this blog. For the rest of you, if you feel bad for me, stop it right now. I am a tough chick, I have prevailed, and I think I'm pretty f*cking incredible, and so are you! Happy Valentine's Day B*tches! I truly mean it, because if you have been reading and following this blog you hold a special place in my heart, not just today, but every day! Now go eat a box of chocolate so I don't feel like a fat*ss all by myself, and put some makeup on, you look like sh*t! Have a great day, b*tches! =)
YSYRFT? (You sure you're ready for this?)
Welcome to B*tches in the Burbs. We're not sure how you got here, but we're glad you did. We absolutely can't wait to get started, but we need to warn everyone that this blog may be offensive to you if you are not truly a b*tchy girl. B*tchy girls can be found everywhere: young, old, any race, size, religion, etc. They can be married, divorced, single, engaged, moms, college students...the list goes on and on.
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