Women Make the Worst Friends...Let's Fix That. Part Three.

For the love of all things holy, I really thought I'd be done yesterday. But, I thought about it, and I realized that you bitches are fucking ridiculous. I almost came to the conclusion that you were beyond hope. Something snapped and I felt the urge to try one more time. Once more to include the ragbags I missed the last two days. After this, I don't want to see another goddamn friendship faux pas! No joke. Let's try to be the support system we were meant to be for each other. Women were made to be compassionate and nurturing mulitasking powerhouses...not walking, talking thundercunts. Get it together, sisters! We outlive men. This means in the end, we will only have each other, and I do not want to be miserable in my golden years.

So, without further jibber jabber, continuing from where we left off...

7.  Uber-Competitive:  Jesus H. Christ on a cracker, why do we do this? Why do we insist on one-upping the people in our lives that we should be celebrating? Instead of hearty congratulations and cheers, we either knock our female friends down or attempt to go one better and compete with them. What the fresh fuck is that? You don't see men doing that to each other. High fives, back slapping, hoots and hollers. That's what they do when one of their friends is having some measure of success. We go so far in the other direction, you'd think we were discussing a mortal enemy by the end of the conversation. It's disgusting. When a friend tells you that she lost three pounds, that is not the time to remind her that you are a size zero and have so much trouble finding clothes that fit right. Listen bitch, if you are a size zero, it's kind of obvious to the naked eye and we don't need it thrust down our throats. We don't empathize with your plight and it's not about YOU. It's about Sally, who has been struggling with her weight since the age of 11, and has finally found something that works. High five her, you wretched snatch-face.

8.  Gossip Girls:  Don't even try to deny it. We all do it. Even men, who claim that it isn't in their DNA. Everyone talks about other people. It's human nature. But there's idle chit chat, information sharing, and then there's vicious gossip. I have something to tell you about gossip. If she talks about a mutual friend TO you, then she also talks ABOUT you to that mutual friend. It's as simple as that. The formula doesn't change, it stays constant. A fact of life, learn it, accept it, deal with it. Yet, it continues, daily. It seems to be worse now than it ever was when we were younger. Likely having something to do with technology, social media, and all that fucking over-sharing going on these days. We open ourselves up to harsh scrutiny and therefore, judgment. After that, we HAVE to tell someone about it. Now, when we share what you've broadcast, it's all in the delivery. Have I just mentioned that you posted a new profile pic and you look fabulous? Or...have I gathered my girls and not only told them you posted a fucking selfie, laughed an evil laugh, shared the pic off of my phone, but, I've begun the process of mocking you, all your flaws, wrinkles, and saying how horrid you look? All in the delivery, my friend.

9.  Needy as Hell:  Oy vey ist mir. I cannot deal with this one. What goes on in the brain of this one, anyway? Do they have a brain? Not very functioning, I can say that about her. How can you get to be an adult in the world and not be able to do shit for yourself? Why can't she do anything without consulting ten other people for an opinion and advice? How difficult is it to get dressed in the morning? Who cares if you wear the black pants with the red shirt or the blue jeans with the fucking green sweater? What will happen if you put the black pants with the green sweater? Does all hell break loose? Will your tits fall off? Tell me now, I'll help you if that is, indeed, the case. I don't want your hooters rolling around unprotected. But, if your boobies will remain in their proper place, regardless of the outfit you've chosen, please don't call me in a frantic state. I simply don't give a shit. We need to break these little girls of this habit. The habit of not being able to make a move on their own. The habit of needing others constantly. Be your own best friend, girlfriend. Trust yourself. I can't hold your hand forever. Put on your big girl panties and get your shit together.

I am so done. I can't keep writing anymore today. You twats wear me out and frankly, there aren't enough hours in the day to devote to you when I have other shit to do. Take these three types into consideration, add the last six to your memory bank, and start becoming the friend you'd like to have. I'm telling you, a lonely old bitch is no way to be. Even your cats will start to avoid you. Just stop being such an annoying little fuckstain, people will want to be around you. Unless you enjoy permanent solitude. Even I don't want that for myself. Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Women Make the Worst Friends...Let's Fix That. Part Two

Not nearly enough time or space on the page to apprise you of all your friendship shortcomings yesterday, I have returned to remedy that today. I don't want you to go through life annoying the shit out of other women. We have neither the time nor the patience for that kind of crap. It's time to take a good, hard look at yourself, see what I see, and cut it the fuck out before someone junk punches you. Hell, it might be me. We don't want that, now do we? Prison stripes are so unattractive and I wouldn't be caught dead in unattractive clothing. Don't force me to do something rash.

Moving forward, let's pick up where we left off yesterday, shall we?

4. Hateful Prejudices:  These are among the worst offenses I can muster up about any person, much less a female friend. How dare you judge other women on some ridiculous standard created by a male-dominated society, perpetuated by Hollywood, and filtered into our daughters' lives through the evil that is much of media today? Fat girls are just lazy. Skinny bitches think who the hell they are. Married women are boring. Single women just whore around and have no responsibility. Any of these sound familiar to you? Familiar because they have erupted from your foul-assed, shit-spewing, hate-mongering lips? You don't know these women, you don't know their lives! What gives you the right to judge them on your first glance of them? Who the fuck are you? What is fat to you, is sexy and curvy to another. Skinny could mean an amazing metabolism, one of which you are fiercely jealous. Married women like to party just as much as single women...you wouldn't know. Single women work hard, support themselves and sometimes their children, and have no time for your fictional whoring around, nor do they want to engage in such nonsense. Worry about yourself, that is more than enough and quite possibly too much for you to handle.

5.  The Zealot:  We all have things about which we are passionate. It's what makes us all so interesting. Sad is the person who just doesn't give a shit about anything. But being passionate doesn't mean shoving your passion down my throat with both fists and a jackhammer. I respect your opinions; I respect your right to have opinions and beliefs; I cannot bear to feel obligated to agree with you and change my ways to suit your cause du jour.  You don't eat meat, fantastic. Not everyone who does eat meat is a murderer or animal hater. I have two cats, have always had pets, always will. I eat meat. Wearing leather means I have enough respect for an animal to want to use the whole thing and not waste it to fill my belly. You breastfeed? Wonderful. Don't do it in my face, don't criticize me for having bottle fed my child and we will get along famously. Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. But discounting friendship with someone purely based on being unable to share an opinion, that's plain stupid. You are fucking stupid. And likely to be friendless at some point in your very passionate life. Good thing you have your opinion to keep you company.

6.  The Sad Sack:  Is life really that hard, honey? Does everything bad happen to you? Do you live under a big, dark rain cloud? Is bad luck your middle name? Or is it the fact that you tend to focus only on the negative and are completely unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel? You probably don't even notice when life is pumping along smooth as silk for you. Those moments matter not to a Whiny Wendy such as yourself. Nothing is ever good enough. You'd much rather sit and complain about everything under the sun to your friends. Maybe it is your way of participating in the conversation because you have little else to contribute? Or is it just a cry for attention? I can't fix what your mommy broke all those years ago, don't expect me to...not my job. Cry to a therapist, that's why they get paid the big bucks.

You know what? I thought I'd be done today. But I realized there is so much more to discuss because there are so many more asshole women in the world that I haven't gotten to yet. For that, I profusely apologize. I will get to each one of you, I promise. I wouldn't want you to feel left out of the conversation, you might have to talk about me behind my back...or even better, on Facebook! That is assuming your opinion matters to me, isn't it? Do you really believe that what you think is a fucking blip in my day? Do you think I cry at night worrying about your feelings about me? Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Women Make the Worst Friends...Let's Fix That

Do you fall into the category of "I don't have very many female friends because I hate the drama" or do you surround yourself with a flock of sisters? I have fallen into both and everywhere in between over the years. The sisterhood feels good when times are good and everyone is getting along...and gossiping about the same people, hopefully on the outside of the group. As soon as one falls out of favor, gains weight, dates an asshole, or God forbid has some measure of success that outshines the rest of the girls, look out! The claws extend and BitchFest2014 can start in the blink of an eye. Why are we like that? Why the fuck can't women be truly good friends and support each other? I haven't the foggiest fucking clue, but I do know that is why many fall into the first category and have more male friends. I know that's why for a good portion of my life, I did. Lose a pound, get a good boyfriend, have a good hair day...and the fake smiles and jealousy rage on like a plague. It's a great reason to have cats. No judgement...out loud, at least.

Let's go over a few types of female friends, see where you fall, and then beat the stupid right out of you.

1. Instigator/Shit Disturber:  You know exactly to what and whom I am referring. The crazy bitch who can't leave well-enough alone. The cunt who thrives on drama and if it doesn't exist, she's hell-bent on creating it. What the fuck is her issue? She just wants to be in the center of a shit storm. Telling you all about what your mutual friend may or may not have said about you, getting your feedback and passing it along behind your back to the mutual friend and a few more. Oh, the joy she gleans from the venom being spewed from everyone else's lips. She stays clean as a whistle because, if you pay very close attention, she never once injects her opinion on the topic. She's simply sharing information she feels you NEED to know. Dear God someone shut her up before all hell breaks loose and the hair-pulling starts!

2. The Frenemy:  Oh, we all have them. Hell, most of us have been one at some point or another. The frenemy loves herself, you...not so much. She will tell you she does, right before she cuts you down. The insult wrapped up in a left-handed compliment. Starting to sound familiar, yet? "Only you could wear ugly boots with that outfit and totally rock it." Isn't it fun to be around someone who can simultaneously build you up and knock you down in the same sentence? Sometimes it's so cleverly done, you don't even notice it. She's very good at sliding the barbs in between the layers of bullshit frosting. In her mind, it's justified because she's only trying to be helpful. Not that she ever wants you look or be as good as she perceives herself to be...but she wants you to think she does. Aw, I just want to hug her so hard around the throat.

3. The Attention Whore:  I do not deny being this one...at least sometimes. The joy of all eyes being on me, all ears straining to hear my next brilliant and hilarious word is intoxicating. In my head, I hear thunderous applause. Then reality hits and I look around and see that I'm in my living room with my family. Whatever. In any event, I can relate to this bitch very closely. I am that bitch. Not that I don't enjoy listening to others and their stories, because I truly do. My friends are funny as fuck and they keep me laughing like no one else can. But there are broads who cannot share the limelight, not for a millisecond. Wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I...I Wanna Talk About Me, by the amazing Toby Keith captures this chick with a great beat. Sometimes, every once in a blue moon, someone else has a contribution to the conversation and should be permitted a moment or two in the spotlight. It's hard but sometimes you actually have to shut the fuck up.

This has been part one of two. You didn't really think I was done? There are far more infractions of the woman friend code and I intend to not only make you aware of them, but to knock them the fuck out of you so we can all start to be the kind of friends we want to have. Do you want to become a lonely old bitch? Moaning and griping to the four walls and your cranky cat? Not me. I am going to be that crazy old broad surrounded by equally crazy friends.Just watch me! Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Facebook Balls

You know exactly what I'm talking about. Hell, I'm sure you have them. Technology has created a bunch of very brave cowards as of late and frankly, I'm disgusted by all of you. Not just on Facebook, but all over social media and anywhere you can put someone on blast for a supposed infraction of what you feel to be a major societal code. Seriously, folks, this has got to stop. Let's begin by remembering that most of you who suddenly have this overwhelming desire to call everyone out, were born way back before the age of the smartphone, laptop, or personal computer. I know I was and I fucking miss those days. The days when if someone pissed you off, you either had to suck it up and deal with it internally, call someone on the phone to complain and commiserate about the offending party, or actually confront the motherfucker and set the record straight. Do any of you have at least vague memories of this? Or is your brain too alcohol-soaked to recall any significant details of your childhood?

Since when is it ok to publicly rip someone a new asshole for something they may or may not have done? Since when is it acceptable to post photos of someone you don't like in order to make other people make fun of them along with you? Since when is it morally correct to accuse someone in front of God and everyone of crimes real and imagined...especially if you aren't a cop, attorney, or judge? When did we become Jesus Christ come down off the cross, ready to smote all those who offend us? It's bad enough you feel the need to share all the details of your ridiculous life with the entire planet, as they happen, on the daily. That is leaving you open to the scrutinizing eye of everyone with internet access...which is bad enough. And yes, we do scrutinize and judge the fuck out of you. But, and here's where it goes horribly wrong...when the scrutiny doesn't remain in your head and comes flying out of your fingertips and onto the screen of whatever technology you happen to be in possession of at the moment. If you want to rag on someone to your friends, have at it, we all do it. At least I admit it.

The thing that gets me, that should get you, is when you get all Judgmental Jesus and take the mocking process public. Or the calling out. Or whatever you, in all your glorious perfection, deem to be a gross transgression of what is right in your world. Let me tell you something...come closer so you can really hear me...YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER! That should set the record straight. If you aren't my mother, you have no right to judge me, correct me, fix me, or call me out. She is and was the only person on this planet with the right to do so and the only one I would have ever listened to regarding my flaws and imperfections. The rest of you can go straight to hell, where assholes who try to publicly humiliate others belong. Are you perfection personified? If you are then please, teach us your ways so that we can be just like you. Since we all know that perfection does not exist, sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and put the smartphone away. We don't need your help.

Let's think about the things that people feel the need to put on blast, shall we? It's usually ridiculous, but sometimes it cuts deeply to the core of who someone is and you don't know anyone you criticize publicly that well. When you decide you are going to write a paragraph long Facebook rant about the mother you saw in the supermarket yelling at her child, describing in detail how evil she looked, what a terrible parent she is, and how you would have handled it oh-so-much better...what do you really know about the situation you just saw? Tell me, what do you know about that woman other than the fact that you saw her snap? Do you know why? Did you follow her from the moment she woke up? Did you also see her child kick the dog, set fire to the kitchen, try to smother the baby in her crib, and use foul language that would make your hair curl directed at the mother? All this while mom, poor mom, was trying to get ready for another job interview, figure out who was going to watch the children during that time because the babysitter called in sick, and she really needs a job because her drunken husband can't keep a job for more than ten minutes and she'd rather be out of the house anyway since his abuse has been escalating? Did you know that??? No, you didn't. You saw a brief moment in time and labelled the poor woman, ripping her apart, probably making her out to be ugly, inside and out...because you didn't really know.

This is the kind of shit that drives me crazy. Those brief moments in time. Little snippets that the outside world accidentally sees and makes snap judgments about. If you don't know the person, really know them, know their history, the day they've had, or the actual situation and the relationship she has with the person to whom she is speaking...walk away. Walk away and move on with your day. You may hear me talking to my daughter one day and call her an asshole...do you know why I've picked that exact word? Nope, you'd just call me an abusive mother. The little funny you aren't aware of is that we call one of our cats an asshole and sometimes we say that one of us is acting like her. It isn't mean, we love our cats like family. But all you'd hear is a mother calling her child a bad name. And you'd judge me harshly, write about it on Facebook or Twitter, maybe even with an accompanying sneaked photo of us...right before we burst out laughing. Very nice of you. I hope you got my good side, accenting my nose ring and my daughter's. We like to match whenever possible...but you didn't know that. You thought I beat her when no one was looking. See the discrepancy?

How about when you've decided you are mad at someone you do know and you choose to put them on blast? Are you such a pussy that you can't talk to them directly? Do you need a bunch of people you don't even know to stand in judgment with you on the internet to feel better? Does it make your stance more right? Perfect strangers jumping to your defense regarding something they haven't a clue about, taking your side about a topic of which they've only seen one side and not even completely...makes you feel big and strong, doesn't it? You experience virtual vindication! Hooray for you, shit stain. Doesn't make you right. Makes you a jackass. A jackass who can't handle their own private affairs...PRIVATELY. You know, privately, like grown ass people mature enough to deal with life do? People who can actually talk to another person directly when something is bugging them instead of becoming the town crier. You aren't one of them. You, my friend, are an ass clown.

Here are the facts as I see them, you don't know people the way you think you do, pure and simple. Your view is limited and skewed based on your own personal experiences. I completely understand that. When I see a man yelling at a woman, I cringe and then want to run over there and rescue the woman. I don't because I really don't know the situation. For all I know, it's a simple argument gone public. Nothing dangerous or ominous. Maybe she said something horrible to him that I hadn't heard. Not all fights are indicative of domestic violence. It doesn't mean that my first reaction isn't chilling. But I am mature enough and intelligent enough to know that not every situation is at it seems at first glance. If I am mad at you, rest assured you won't see evidence of it on any social media site, whatsoever. You won't see terrible photos of yourself with mean-spirited captions. Nor will you read a status and immediately know it is about you. I'm not that scared little shit. If you piss me off, you'll know it. The rest of the world won't. I'm very good at being phony when necessary. The rest of you, the cowards who hide behind their technology screens, it's time to grow the fuck up, butt the fuck out, and act like adults, not giant babies, scared of your own shadow. I have absolutely no time for your shit. One day, no one else will, either. And we all know you can't handle being alone. Are you friggin kidding me right now???

Shut the Fuck Up!

No, really, shut the fuck up. I think I've had all I can possibly take from people and their bitching, whining, and griping to last a goddamn lifetime...and I am done. Is life really that hard? Tell the truth. Because if you say yes, and you don't have cancer, aren't beaten by your spouse, have a decent job, and a roof over your head...you're an asswipe. Life has its trials and tribulations, I am totally aware of that. Some days are shittier than others, some are just peachy, neato, keeno. 'Tis the nature of the beast. Life is a fickled bitch, and she does what she wants, when she wants. And you know what, that is perfectly fine. You'd never appreciate the good days if you didn't have a sprinkling of bad. But you don't appreciate anything. You would take the joy out of a fucking newborn. There's not a thing you can't piss all over. Why? What's made you so crusty? Did your mommy not love you enough?

Tell me how is a cold ruining your day? Seriously, how can snot wreck an entire 24 hour period? The powerful and mighty Mucosa! Look out, it's infiltrating nostrils everywhere! Certainly, you can't function when you have a stuffy nose, now can you? Your legs stop working, your eyes no longer see, it actually renders you paralyzed. Oh, it doesn't? Then why the hell do you make it sound like you were hit by a fucking truck while on roller skates every time you sneeze? Relax your sack, it's simply a basic virus. Not deadly, and certainly not incapacitating. Feel free to stop posting about it non-stop on social media. We really don't give a rat's furry little ass. In reality, most of us are laughing at you, even if we've wished you well and told you to feel better. Inside, we are mocking the fuck out of you and your wussy whining.

Life is filled with stuff we have to do rather than want to do. Even stuff for which we haven't planned, like flat tires, toilets overflowing, long lines at the supermarket, traffic...loads of totally un-fun shit. But, your reaction to them, that's a choice. No one forces you to get all pissy and bitchy when these things occur. Oh no, that's all you. Are any of these things insurmountable? Nope. Do you act like the sky is falling every time one of them happens? Sure as shit you do. Most of those things, life's little annoyances, are totally beyond your control. No one intentionally causes these things, no one wished them on you, the world is NOT out to get you...you aren't that important. I'm pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't consider you when it circles the sun. Sorry to disappoint all you narcissistic mother fucks out there. Shit happens. See if you can get over it.

Some of you like making mountains out of molehills. There have been plenty of injuries, sicknesses, even surgeries in my house...but you'd never know it. Most certainly you'd never find me blasting it all over social media land. It's none of your goddamn business, nor do I want your opinions and definitely not your pity. I don't require either. As a grown ass woman, I can handle the things that life throws at me. Much more than you can ever imagine and definitely more than you could on your very best day. I may not show it outwardly, but I am always fighting the good fight. Inside my mind and in my heart, there is constant turmoil, things about which I am constantly worried, tears left unshed, heartaches about which I'll never tell you, and normal every day shit that I have to get done. Trust me, you'll never see any of it on Facebook or Twitter. You can't help me and I don't want your trite words of supposed empathy.

There are so many folks out there who have had it worse than I, yet you'd never know it. Going about their lives, laughing and smiling, appreciating the warmth of the sun, the cool breeze on their faces...truly living life. While you sit around, glued to your computer screen, looking for shit about which to complain. No one I know has it that bad, lucky for them. Living in their safe little havens, untouched by real illness, never having to have dealt with true tragedy, having never felt threatened by someone they love, their children happy and generally healthy...grousing and griping about every little drama that they create out of their own self-pity and inability to handle life. Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Don't you feel the slightest bit fucktarded for complaining now? If you don't, I'm afraid there's really no hope for you. Are you friggin kidding me right now???