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| Blessed be |
This week is more of a shit list then a bitch one, so bless all those in the path of the bitch list this time around. But don't lose your shit just yet if you're confused, once you see the top three things I'm bitching about you'll better understand. Because while two of the topics are related to shitty things, one of them literally helps to get it out into the world. Now, without further apoo, I give you the top three bitchworthy things that, like an evil fiberless turd that just won't go away, really make my ass angry...
3 - Gravity
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| Finally the Whites are in the back, and this bitch can't even smile |
Oh where to begin? Gravity is the skinny bitch that ate the last cookie and blamed it on the fat chick in accounting. If gravity weren't allowed in our lives of course we'd be dead and floating around like bobble heads in the vast nether of the atmos, but come on, Gravity... give us hobags a break from time to time.
Whether it's busting your ass while climbing up the stairs in front of a hottie (more proof we should all never take stairs), or realizing that over the years the original G has taken your tits and dragged them within inches of the ground like Tex Avery's tongue after he sees a hot chick, that bitch known as Gravity only brings more Shambles than good into our lives.
And so for all the Ugly Betty moments of embarrassment, for every eye bag you tugged down with your shambled hands of bitchery, hell for every fat chick you pushed down on some weird fetishist who likes to be squished... I'm serving gravity the extra large douche baguette sammy she/he/it deserves, and hoping that one day we and gravity will learn to work together like ketchup and mashed potatoes to create something strange to the eye, but nom to the palate that we can all benefit from.
Whether it's busting your ass while climbing up the stairs in front of a hottie (more proof we should all never take stairs), or realizing that over the years the original G has taken your tits and dragged them within inches of the ground like Tex Avery's tongue after he sees a hot chick, that bitch known as Gravity only brings more Shambles than good into our lives.
And so for all the Ugly Betty moments of embarrassment, for every eye bag you tugged down with your shambled hands of bitchery, hell for every fat chick you pushed down on some weird fetishist who likes to be squished... I'm serving gravity the extra large douche baguette sammy she/he/it deserves, and hoping that one day we and gravity will learn to work together like ketchup and mashed potatoes to create something strange to the eye, but nom to the palate that we can all benefit from.
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2 - Shia LaDouche
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| I hate when it's curved. Shia, however does not. |
He's super cocky for no good reason other than he's been in a lot of shitty movies (Holes being the exception), and claims to have had an at-home version of Holes with his lady co-stars. Maybe I'm projecting here or whatever it's called, but it really gets my cooch in a wad when little twerps act like douchey assholes in order to boost their hideo confidence to the size of a series regular on Mike and Molly.
Some haters might say I'm jealous, but I'm not (except in one case, you skinny bitch). If I were, that'd be like Crystal Burger being jealous of Sonic... just because more people know about you, Sonic doesn't mean you aren't just as shitty and shambled as your girl Crystal.
All my bitching aside, the point remains that Napoleon Comlexed "actors" who get wasted and break their hands while hobags are in the passenger seat, do not deserve the praise they demand you give them. So shut the face, Shia, because not only does your name mean "shit the beef", but you're really not attractive enough to be flashing your shit around town like you're some kinda Sharon Stone... because let's face it, Shia, you are no Sharon Stone.
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1 - Shit Talkers
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| Gurl, You not gonna believe the shit I just heard! |
We all know I talk more shit than a butthole 8-12 hrs after an all you can eat steak dinner, but there is a line people, and DO NOT cross it or I will call the Poo-lice and you will be dealt with accordingly. You people who drop donkey's on the phone while I'm talking to you are number 1 on the bitch list this week. I don't care if Bjork died, they revealed "A" on PLL, True Blood got canceled, AND Obama made donuts illegal all on the same day, don't call me with the scoop until you're done dropping ya poopz cuz that shit is just nasty.
Oh and if you decide that you MUST call me while in said state and try to pull a fast one on me while you're laying it down slow and chillin' pimp style on the toilet like I lay down the middle roll when I drive... please-to have the decency to wait until we hang up to flush... because what I don't know won't kill me, but what you don't know is that I WILL kill you if after 20 minutes of talk about how hideous Simbajaws is, I hear a flush and realize in retrospect the horror that the entire convo was spent with your nethers flopping out and Mr. Hanky's cousins bungee jumping from the trap door of shambles that you may want to enter after some beers, but CAN NOT and WILL NOT enter in this instance by law.
Peeing on the phone is more acceptable but still atrocious. I must admit I'm guilty of this one, but I have the common sense to give a spoiler alert to the person I'm talking to beforehand. I'm as lazy as the next fat bitch, hobags, but even I can take the energy usually reserved for my after dinner mint, and use it instead to drop a "I'm boutta pee so if you hear piss noises and a flush that's what's up" before I just sprawl the horror onto the killer harrassing me on the other end of the line. We all know the line from Scream, but we don't need to live it... no one REALLY want's to see what your insides look like okay, home gurl, so stop looking so offended. I mean pretend like I'm not on the phone and I'm really there... would you whip your jellies out and start pissing or drop a caboose right there in front of me? Hell no, and if your answer is "hell yes" then we need to evaluate more than just our Facebook friendship.
In shamation, know that if I hear a fart, plop, drip, or newborn-from-your-cooch-slash-ass baby crying and I'm on the phone with you, it might be the last time we talk... cuz I'm not wasting my precious nights and weekend minutes on your nasty ass if every five seconds in between sentences you're making "I'm getting raped in a gang bang" sex noises... cuz those I can make myself with the click of a Craigslist ad.
Oh and if you decide that you MUST call me while in said state and try to pull a fast one on me while you're laying it down slow and chillin' pimp style on the toilet like I lay down the middle roll when I drive... please-to have the decency to wait until we hang up to flush... because what I don't know won't kill me, but what you don't know is that I WILL kill you if after 20 minutes of talk about how hideous Simbajaws is, I hear a flush and realize in retrospect the horror that the entire convo was spent with your nethers flopping out and Mr. Hanky's cousins bungee jumping from the trap door of shambles that you may want to enter after some beers, but CAN NOT and WILL NOT enter in this instance by law.
Peeing on the phone is more acceptable but still atrocious. I must admit I'm guilty of this one, but I have the common sense to give a spoiler alert to the person I'm talking to beforehand. I'm as lazy as the next fat bitch, hobags, but even I can take the energy usually reserved for my after dinner mint, and use it instead to drop a "I'm boutta pee so if you hear piss noises and a flush that's what's up" before I just sprawl the horror onto the killer harrassing me on the other end of the line. We all know the line from Scream, but we don't need to live it... no one REALLY want's to see what your insides look like okay, home gurl, so stop looking so offended. I mean pretend like I'm not on the phone and I'm really there... would you whip your jellies out and start pissing or drop a caboose right there in front of me? Hell no, and if your answer is "hell yes" then we need to evaluate more than just our Facebook friendship.
In shamation, know that if I hear a fart, plop, drip, or newborn-from-your-cooch-slash-ass baby crying and I'm on the phone with you, it might be the last time we talk... cuz I'm not wasting my precious nights and weekend minutes on your nasty ass if every five seconds in between sentences you're making "I'm getting raped in a gang bang" sex noises... cuz those I can make myself with the click of a Craigslist ad.
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