Conflict does not disappear just because you act "nice", shush it up
and offer everyone another scone. A good time is not constituted by a
whole lot of quietly frustrated people sitting around in a room pretending
to be happy.
If the path of least resistance does not lead you to violent death
at my enraged hands, it will lead you around and around in ever
decreasing circles until you collapse in a pathetic aimless heap.
And for all your wheedling no one will like you because they don't
know who you are because you don't.
Get an opinion. It's the first step to getting a life.
I'm sick of being told I'm a cold, hard, unnatural woman because
I don't fold in the face of opposition. I'm sick of being told I
must be a lesbian because I don't laugh at jokes about fat chicks
and I am *not* going to make the sandwiches (unless we're having
cold roast of the day and you're it, asshole...) A natural woman
is the queen of the jungle. A natural woman is not a piece of
toilet paper. I am not going to lie down and take it just because
you call me "bitch", "butch" or any other variation. I have a small
rubber appendage at home that's a bigger man than you.
Women who wear gingham, hair ribbons or gold heart jewelry
are courting decapitation. Cute is not cute. Get over cute.
People who tell blonde jokes need to convince me why they
shouldn't be shot. Why they shouldn't be forcibly bleached and
see how they like it for a day. Especially if it's the one about the
pickle.
I don't whine, I roar. I slap people with an open palm
to the forehead and I yell, "Hello?"
Yes! I want to read more from Real Life Heartless Bitches
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