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So how's it going?

This is your place to vent!

Fill out the form below to send me your favorite bitch about life, love or the pursuit of nappiness. Not like I care or anything, but you’re free to tell me anyway. Maybe, if I have the time, (‘cause I have a DAY job!) I’ll write back.

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough- yum!

Your Name/Alias:
Your Email:
Today's Mood
Your Bitch Today:

Sample Bitches:

From: Beach Goddess


Mood: normal


I'm wondering about how smart men truly are. I read a book this weekend to not give a flying fart about what they think. Do you think this is true? Or are we short changing the opposite sex?


Dear Beach Goddess:


Men are "smart" in the sense that even dumb animals find shelter in the winter and can scrape hard ground for food if they have to. The thing to always remember is that men are instinctual; if they need food, they do drive thru. If they need beer, they buy a case. If they need sex, well, it's you or their hand. Just remember that if they need something, and you can provide it easier and faster than they can do it themselves, then you might be able to leverage that in your favor.



From: Resentful Roommate


Mood: bee-atch


I'm tired of getting caught in the middle of my 40 year old male roommate's on-and-off relationship with his 20 year old aspiring "porn star" girlfriend. I've made it quite clear I'm uninterested in being his therapist AND that I resent being triangled into their little "dramas" yet the behavior ensues. Given that moving out is not an option at this time and I don't want to turn into a TOTAL bee-atch. What should I do? 


Dear Resentful:


Perhaps the next time this person starts one of his little "plays" you can select from one of the following options:

1. "Why don't you ask your mother?"

2. Hand him the Yellow Pages already open to the "Psychiatric Counselors" page.

3. "I just pay rent here. If you want my opinion, you'll have to lower my rent."

4. Yell "OW! OW! My head! OW!" and run from the room.

5. MOVE!



From: Smarty Pants


Mood: bee-atch


I have approximately 3 days 5 hours and 42 minutes left of sanity....I'm traveling back East to the land of the trolls for the holidays. Pray for me O Diva of Mirth...


Dear Smarty Pants- I'll pray for you, but you should know that fish and family start to smell after three days. Put a clothespin on your nose and try to remember that we do these things once a year to remind ourselves of why we moved 1500 miles away! Please write again!