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.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Eau de ashtray
He asked you for a smoke. You ignored him, cut in front of him and flicked your two-drag smoke to the street before your entered the store. You knew he would pick it up. He did. You both carried on with your day. It's likely you didn't give it a second thought. he likely felt a loss of self-respect. I wanted to flick you to the street and stomp you out. —Enjoy your ass voice as you age
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