today, this bitch hoebag of a skank glorified secretary at Jay's work grabbed his junk WHILE I WAS ON THE FUCKING PHONE WITH HIM. i explicitly heard this shit go down as it happened. i'm talking real-time shit here, people!

"Here's a copy of the paperwork from mergers and acquisitions. Jimmy's canceled the afternoon meeting. Is there anything else before i--"

"BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

and then he dropped the phone and i heard him going off on her and then he came back to the phone and told me what happened and i wanna kill that bitch with my bare hands, revive that bitch, and kill that bitch again. and thanks to whitepages.com, i'm one step closer to achieving my goal. i don't wanna show up at his job tomorrow and threaten this hoe with a smile on my face. nuh uh. she fucked with the right one. i just wanna go bash her skull in. that's all. if i don't kill her, i wanna put her ass in the hospital for a week minimum. i don't really have that much of a problem with going to jail for defending what's mine.

and the thing is, i knew this shit was gonna happen. given the way she fucks her way up, down, and around that company, i knew it was only a matter of time before she tried something with my man. and the bitch is always up in my face smiling and shit like she's my friend when her nasty breath reeks of herpes and chlamydia. bitch, don't nobody want your nasty ass banana bread.

i'm not gonna lie, i was kinda mad at Jay too. yes, i blame the victim. what the fuck are you sitting on the edge your desk with your shit just out there for anybody to reach in and cop a feel. you have a goddamn chair behind your goddamn desk where bitches can't be grabbing your junk all willy nilly. use it!

oh, i wanna kill her. somebody go kill her for meeeeee. the little person sitting in my uterus won't let me go bust her skull open with a tire iron.


gawd. am i the only person in the world who thinks those indiana jones movies are way overrated?
--i refused to spellcheck @ 8:25 PM | |