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???