I am tired of listening to my co-workers whine about their relationships, then turn around and act like cute li'l lapdogs, all squeals and yaps and wide-eyed begging, when Mr. Wrong comes around.

I mean, if I (God forbid) were with someone who didn't "let" me go out without him and confiscated my paycheck the minute I walked in the door, I would LAUGH as I made his skull into a charming vase for my tulips.

When some trailer-trash family appears on the news sobbing because they let their kids blow themselves up with fireworks, or because they left 'em alone with matches and burned the double-wide down, or because Billy Bob done lost his truck when he drove into high water, I LAUGH.

When I heard about the Southern Baptists adopting their "submit gracefully" line for women, I LAUGHED. Let those pathetic excuses for women go around simpering and deferring humbly to their beer-gutted, toad-like husbands...all the more reason to shout "Jesus loves a doormat!" when driving by churches on the way to Quick-Trip get more cigarettes. And I'll be sure to LAUGH when they flutter and bluster and shout, "I pity your soul, harlot!" as I peel out and drive away.

People accuse me of being too loud, too opinionated, too bitchy, too unladylike, too fat, too ugly, too lowbrow, too smart for my own good, and too pushy. And you know what I do...
...I LAUGH!

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