Wednesday, August 03, 2005

 

Don't cut off my wife

Nina was fuming when I got into bed last night. Of course, she'd had a rough day as usual dealing with Sam and all his bullshit. But there was also an incident that brought out the evil in her that I love so much to see.

She was on her way to the YMCA for a workout. The parking lot was packed. Apparently there was some big yoga class going on and the housewives of the community saw an opportunity to qualify telling their husbands that they'd "exercised" that day. Nina was actually planning on busting her ass in the cardio room as normal. She managed to find one spot left, but another car was approaching and she'd have to wait for it to pass before turning in.

You know what happened before I say it. Nina turned on her turn signal and waited patiently, only to see the bitch in the approaching car pull right the fuck into her space. I would have been fucking livid and probably would have utilized my inherited masculine perk of terrorizing the opposite sex. Nina was ready to fucking explode. She just sat there and laid on her horn as the cunt sat in the car, motionless. And she had a fucking child with her! Score another reason why we hate parents. It wasn't until a couple minutes later when Nina took off and had to park about 200 yards away (no exaggeration) that she saw the greedy puta jump out, grab her hellspring and scurry into the building.

Nina couldn't let it go. I didn't mean to laugh, because the situation wasn't funny. I would have lost my shit all over this bitch. But it's such a rarity to hear Nina say this kind of shit. A few of the highlights include:

"Fucking goddamned fucking cunt!"
"I'm gonna key her fucking car if I ever see it again. Don't believe me? I got the license!"
"I hope she gets a fucking nasty-ass yeast infection."
"She was wearing white yoga pants. I hope she gets her fucking period all over them."

Good. Gooooooood! Your hate has made you powerful. I have to admit that it's nice to see her get pissed off at someone other than me like this. She so rarely lets herself feel her own anger that it gets all bottled up inside. Then she just has a fucking meltdown. Not pretty. And definitely not my strong suit at dealing with.

So the next time you know that the parking space you're about to pull into is being waited for by a nice, patient, kind-hearted girl in a 2000 Impala... just let it go. You never know. Today might just be the day that that crazy bitch decides that turning your ass to pulp might just be worth the time.

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