Angry? Mad as hell and you can't take it anymore? Get something off your chest and it could be published online and/or in print. Bitches are anonymous and may be edited for length, grammar, spelling and our lenient standards of propriety.
Friday, March 26, 2010
This is a super special bitch dedicated to two folks: the asshole who almost ran me over at the crosswalk, and the asshole landlord who judged me for how I look and assumed I was a pothead partier.
To the asshole driver: those two blinky lights above the big 'crosswalk' sign? They mean stop. You literally came within INCHES of hitting me. I know you know you were wrong—you pulled over immediately after it happened. I'm going to call and report you to the police—I got your fucking license plate number. I don't know where you came from, but when I checked before I started to cross, you weren't there, so you must have been going pretty fast. I hope you get your license taken away, fuckwad.
To the landlord: I do not, in fact, smoke weed. I don't party, I don't have people over at all hours of the night. I am almost 30. Telling me that as long as you don't smell it you don't care pretty much sealed the deal for me. I know I look young, but I've been living on my own for almost 10 years now. Also, trying to charge us an extra $50 because my boyfriend and I have a roommate? Bullshit. It's a two-bedroom apartment. I'm sorry we don't have kids, and I'm sorry you think we'll have to shower an extra two times a day. You can keep your shitty-ass apartment. —Not a Druggie or a Pylon