Melanie
. . . I tell it like it is, and if they don't like it, Fuck 'em. In-laws who think that, despite their son being institutionalized in a psych ward THREE times, I'M to blame? Fuck them and their delusions too. Boss who kept a 3-month log chronicling how many times I rolled by eyes? Watch the door slam behind my (bodacious) ass on the way out, and fuck you too (you wish). "Unplanned pregnancy?" I don't think so. Why don't you stop hopping on the stick every 5 seconds and being so cavalier about your BC? Date whose real-life self doesn't reconcile with his fake online one? Prepare to go on a date by yourself. I don't have time for your shit, Bitches. I'd rather be alone with my parmesan popcorn, Nip/Tuck, and my famous farting dog. (The parmesan and the farting together ... not recommended. But still better than a bad date with a LIAR.)
When those lazy people who manage to get along in life by just kind of being carried along by the masses fumble over themselves in a conversation, when their words kind of trail off, and I'm supposed to take over and fill in the blanks for them, come up with a solution for them, I don't say a word. Because they weren't ever planning on finishing their own thought anyway, me not jumping in as expected really stumps them, and their own awkwardness soon becomes glaringly obvious. I could jump in to save them, but I rarely choose to. Why should they get a free ride?
Country: United States
Yes! I want to read more from Real Life Heartless Bitches
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