A bitch was bored beyond all belief last night. The original plan to sit on my ass and watch documentaries on the Sundance Channel crashed headlong into the evil serpent of re-run documentary programming. Motherfuckers! Can a bitch get a new documentary please? I know they have them. Next Monday had best make up for yesterday…
This morning I woke up to the rhythmic sound of my mostly-beagle snoring. Betsey the beagle’s allergies are acting up and she’s all snotty! A bitch knows she should sympathize, but that mutt snore is too cute for words.
After a 5-minute tummy rub for the mostly-beagle, I stumbled into the kitchen to prepare coffee. A bitch added a dash of cinnamon to the grind this morning…fantabulous!
The Today Show had a segment tackling the topic of cohabitation before marriage. Seems that Katie wanted to know if cohabitation before marriage had any impact on a couple’s survival. A bitch has very firm beliefs on this, even though my ass will never formally marry (a bitch does plan to throw one hell of a party at 40…white dress…strippers…look for the registry at Tiffany’s in 7 years). This bitch isn’t big on formality or veils, but I do adore cake.
Anyhoo, if we test drive a car and try on shoes, why can’t we test out a relationship and see how that works? My heart goes out to women who end up married to an ass that they know would have been exposed as an ass had they only lived with him or her for a few weeks. Or the poor man who wakes up one month into a marriage and realizes that his partner really is a shrew…that’s gotta suck. The only complaint against cohabitation is that it is a supposed "sin". But this bitch feels that taking an oath before The Devine One without making sure you can live by that oath is a far greater sin. Walk in the shoes for a mile before you start bragging about how fucking perfect they are…
Guns, the NRA and a bitch
A bitch is not pro-gun. This position in based on a childhood incident that involved my crazy assed mother, a cup of tea, an argument with my father and a loaded .45 on the kitchen table. A bitch was 8 or 9. Quick thinking on the part of my older sister spared our neat little country subdivision from a Lifetime Movie plot. Sigh. You just can’t put guns in the hands of anyone. Trust me…
After my sister buried the bullets in the backyard and inspected the gun to make certain that there was no way our absolutely unstable mother could end a life with it, we all settled down at the kitchen table to sip tea and passively avoid dealing with the disaster that almost took place.
A bitch was amazed to read that the NRA has decided to diss Columbus as a convention location because they had the audacity to ban some sort of shoulder cannon. Who knew it could be that simple to get them to go away? Anyhoo, a bitch believes in gun control and thinks that you would too if you’d seen a gun in the hands of a mentally unstable yet technically proficient bitter short wild-eyed black woman with a grudge against the world.
To be rich and criminal
Roman Polanski is a fugitive. Don’t get me wrong…a bitch loves his movies. But his ass skipped out and ran to Europe after allegedly drugging some young skinny thing in Jack Nicholson’s hot tub and molesting her. Why come he gets to give testimony in some liable case via satellite? Why is the British government granting him this courtesy? Why can’t a bitch be rich enough to manipulate the legal system for 30 years? Why?!?
Something about that cinnamon in the coffee makes a bitch ponder and reflect…