How To Get Rid Of A Dick

I hate when guys cannot take no for an answer. I especially despise those men who are persistent in rejecting your "no" and continue to try and lure you in with hideous pick up lines and see-through compliments. I have found a way to not only shoot them down for good, but to have fun while you're doing it. So ladies, here are five ways to rid yourself of that persistent douchebag:

1. If the asshole insists on carrying on a conversation with you, join in. Use words such as puny, small, itsy-bitsy, tiny, little, and so on as much as you possible can. Each time you say one of the words, look directly at his crotch in a way he'll be sure to notice. He should get the hint and move on.

2. If the man has bought you a drink and has turned out to be an ass and refuses to leave, start the psycho bitch routine. Talk about how you stalked your ex and attempted to poison him with antifreeze. Throw in a few tears for good measure. If he still isn't leaving, remind him that you are still hurt and the next man to hurt you will suffer your pain tenfold. He won't take a chance with your crazy ass and will depart immediately.

3. Before you go out, be prepared for the guy who continues to hound you for your number. Grab your local phone book and find the number for the (also local) jail or penitentiary. Jot it down and slip it in your purse. If you run into the persistent number guy, give it to him and then laugh thinking of his reaction when he calls it.

4. You're at the club and some guy won't leave you alone. He continues to ask you to dance, so go for it. When you two are out on the floor, start dancing in a way that you have to bring your knees up. Wait for the perfect timing and then knee him in his crotch for all you're worth. Excuse your clumsiness and go back to your drink -- he won't bother you again.

5. If all this fails, you are dealing with a serious dick. At this point, you may have to pull out all the stops. Simply look him dead in his face and with the most serious look you can give, inform him that you have herpes. Tell him you were raped by your stepfather at the age of eleven and have had them ever since. If this doesn't get him to back the fuck up -- stab him with your fork because he deserved it.

I have tried all the above and they work wonders. Feel free to print this page and carry it with you the next time you go out. This has been my public service for the day...

Cold Beer - Colder Bitch

I went to the local sports bar to watch the Bengals-Steelers game yesterday. I had every intention of sitting alone at a table, sipping beer from the bottle, and cheering my boys on. I wore my OchoCinco jersey and jeans and had my "wish a motherfucker would" face on. I found a table and was prepared to enjoy my evening.

That wasn't going to happen.

I wasn't there ten minutes when a guy approached my table (wearing a Roethlisberger jersey to boot). He asked if I was alone to which I replied yes. He then asked if I wanted company to which I replied not really. He pulls out a seat and sits down anyway. He goes on to say I probably wouldn't want to be alone after we (the Bengals) lost and he was there to offer a shoulder to cry on. I was about to punch him dead in his damn nose when he offered to buy my drinks.

Sold.

The guy was cute, but the conversation was not. All he talked about was himself and how hard his life had been. Needless to say, when the game was over, I got up to leave. He said "it looks like I'm the one who needs a shoulder to cry on" (his team lost) to which I replied yup. As I was about to leave he made the comment but I bought you drinks (thinking this would make me stick around a while). I told him that I didn't ask him to and that I don't hang out with losers. I blew him a kiss and left.

I hate when ignorant assholes think just because they buy you a few drinks, you owe them something. I think next time, I'll offer to buy their drinks if they leave me the hell alone.

Dear Miss Suzie

Received this email recently:

Miss Suzie
I have been married for a year and things were great up until now. My husband refuses to help out around the house anymore. All he does is sits in front of the computer or tv. I have three small children that I am taking care of and I don't need a fourth. You seem like you do a great job dealing with a-holes and I was wondering how you would handle my situation.
Signed
Can't take it anymore

My Response:

Dear Can't take it anymore
Let me guess: While your asshole sits in front of the television or computer, you are busy doing all the things you have to do -- laundry, dinner, cleaning, etc.? You don't bother him and continue to busy yourself around the house and children? You have dinner on the table every night and your house stays tidy? Am I right?

Grow some labia!

Here's what you do: When you do laundry, only do yours and the kids. Allow his laundry to pile up in the corner of your bedroom where he'll be sure to see it. When you fix dinner, only do so for you and your children. For added bitchiness, you can even set him a place at the table, but do not have food available for his plate. When he finally asks what the hell is going on, repeat these words:

It is apparent that you no longer feel the need to help out around the house, so I suggest you ask your dear computer for some help. Perhaps you should google how not to act like a complete jackass in a marriage.

Then go have a girl's night out -- you deserve it.

Dude, Where's My Car?

Those of you who know about Dick, knows he likes to fuck with me (that sounded bad on so many levels). Anyway, last night was no different. I'm sitting on the couch, minding my own business and attempting to watch a movie when my phone starts beeping -- texts from Dick. I ignored the texts for over an hour and then the phone rang.

At first, all I could hear was loud music. After saying hello twice, I was about to hang up. Dick then makes some comment about being at a strip club and hung up in my face.

Oh no he didn't!

Refusing to just "let it go" like my family and friends have been pleading for me to do, I threw on my shoes and grabbed my keys. I knew which club he was at (the same one he always goes to), so I was there in less than twenty minutes. Spotting his truck, I parked near it. Making sure he or any of his friends weren't around, I quickly got into his truck and drove several blocks down the street. I parked his truck and walked back to my car in which I jumped in and quickly drove home.

I slept well last night knowing that when he came out of the club and discovered his truck was gone that he'd be pissed. I slept well knowing that he probably had to call a cab to get back to wherever he was staying. I slept well knowing that I forgot to lock his truck and by the time he found it, everything would be missing.

The moral of the story: Never fuck with a bitch who still has keys to your car.

What The Future Holds

Yesterday would have been my eight year anniversary to my husband (had the punk ass not left). I figured there was no sense in letting the occasion go by uncelebrated so I took some of the money I had made selling Dick's shit and purchased a nice dress, I dolled myself up, and took myself out.

I ended up at my favorite steakhouse where I enjoyed steak and coconut shrimp, had one too many pina coladas, flirted tirelessly with the waiter, met a man named Philipe, plotted out my husband's death, paid Philipe his deposit for carrying out my death request, enjoyed a Mississippi mud pie, gave the waiter my number, and called a cab to take me back home.

Okay, so I was kidding about the whole Dick death plot (or was I)?

I spent the rest of the night thinking of the eight years I wasted on Dick's ass -- the things I could have done, should have done, and could have done without. Trying to find a silver lining in all that bullshit began to give me a headache (although it could have come from the pina coladas). I decided it was time to start fresh.

I will be enrolling myself into E.C.P.I. (evil & corrupt people institute) to sharpen my skills. Once I've completed the necessary courses, I shall have the proper ability to make Dick's life a living hell after which, the kids and I will be relocating to an undisclosed location.

Oh, the future looks so bright.

Decorated Dick

Dick picked the kids up for the weekend last night. All was fine until I put their bags in his truck. I noticed all his clothes and even his suitcase were in there as well. He had told me that he was staying at his parent's house on the river (which he claims to have done when he left before). I asked why were all his things still in the truck and he just laughed. I asked where he was taking the kids and he told me not to worry about it.

Oh no he didn't.

Needless to say, I wasn't going to let him leave without knowing where my kids were going. Dick ended up calling the cops and saying I was imprisoning him (he's such a pussy). The cops show up, get both sides of the story, tell me they believe his story of taking them to the river, and tell me how to conduct a welfare check on my kids if something didn't seem right. I kissed my children and off they went.

After Dick's truck was out of sight, the cop asked if I wanted to talk. Not knowing what to say, I just shrugged my shoulders. He motioned me to my porch steps where I took a seat. He asked how long I had been married, how long we've been having problems, among other bullshit. Still not realizing what was going on, I answered his questions. He goes on to state that good men are hard to find these days. He puts his hand on my thigh and tells me it's even harder for a woman with kids to find a decent man and as he inches his hand up, he states that there are some out there.

At this point, the cop is smiling like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. I push his hand away and asked him what the hell was his problem? I told him it took me forever to get rid of one dick, what makes him think I want another? I then politely asked him to get the hell off my property before I have to shove his badge so far up his ass that he wouldn't be able to sit for a week. I then went inside, locked the door, grabbed a beer, and began my chick-flick-athon.

Moral of the story: A man with a badge is just a dick with decorations.

Neighborhood Crime Bitch

My neighborhood is usually quiet (with the exception of the bitch brigade a.k.a. the other mothers) so I was disturbed to learn we've been having some crime lately. Cars have been broken into and mailboxes have been vandalized. After having my own mailbox smashed twice, I figured it was time to do something. I've never been one to sit back and just take it.

I took a nice long nap yesterday, preparing for my all-nighter. I put the kids to bed, donned my neighborhood crime bitch attire (all black obviously), and hid myself behind some bushes and waited. My plan was flawed as I had absolutely nothing to do but sit and watch, so I was bored as hell. About 12:30 in the morning, I spotted three teenage punks sneaking down the streets. Sure enough, they were pushing over mailboxes again. I dialed 911 and waited. Just as they were about to approach my box, I jumped out of the bushes and said if you value your balls, I'd rethink touching that mailbox.

Stunned, they turned to look at me and just as they were about to run, the police car was pulling in. Being as they were underage, I'm sure they were just taken back to their parents. Hopefully this will end the crime spree and if not, I'll be armed with a paintball gun next time. What is it with kids these days?

Dick Of All Dicks

This week's golden cock award goes to Dick (my husband) for leaving the kids and I yet again. I'm not sure if it's his love of strippers, a possible bitch on the side, or just the fact that he is a fucktard that drove him to leave this time, but off he went. I have decided to let the asshole go in peace. I also told him to pack well and not to let the door hit him in the ass on the way out. I then proceeded with the grieving process:

I boxed the shit he left behind up and have begun to sell most of it on Craigslist. I have made enough money so far to buy myself a couple steak dinners and a fancy new wardrobe. I also sent his number to several gay ads that I came across on Craigslist so I'm sure he's been spending quite a bit of time warding off the boys.

All of this still wasn't enough. My heart still hurt rather badly. I upped the ante and listed his "toy" (a sports car) on Ebay. That brought a pretty penny which I deposited into my newly opened bank account in case of a rainy day. Still not enough.

Luckily, he called to ask if I would drop his shampoo off at his father's house (it's some special shit for balding men). I politely agreed, but before I dropped it off, I added a little Nair to the mix. I so hope he enjoys my concoction.

My heartache has subsided slightly, but I'm sure the pain will arise again sooner or later. Let's just hope the bastard has sense enough to stay away from me. I'd hate to have him leave missing a ball or two. So to Dick, I award five golden cocks for being the most selfish and ignorant asshole I know.

For The Love Of Something

A ten hour drive through the mountains (my ears popping all the way) and a ten hour drive back (listening to my brother gloat about the Broncos win) just to watch my Bengals lose in the most unimaginable way ever! I must say, despite our loss, I had a blast!

I did manage to call out a couple of ho's at the game and I feel like sharing it with you:

One chick had on booty shorts and was making a point to show her ass (both literally and figuratively). I was fine until she bent over and my brother pointed out the tampon string hanging from her you know (yes, eww). I asked her how it felt to be more of an ass than she was showing and that she might want to go hide her string. She returned nothing but silence and the dumbest look ever.

The second (drunk) chick was hanging all over some dude who obviously didn't like the attention. I shouted over to him that drunk chicks are like stray cats -- you can never get rid of them. She backed off the dude (who looked instantly relieved), gave me a mean look, and mouthed "fuck you." I simply mouthed back "you are welcome."

The last ho happened to sit a few seats in front of me. This bitch would not shut up. During half the game, she was talking about everything except football. When she (not joking) began discussing her cleavage, I finally passed the rest of my popcorn to her and told her to stuff her damn mouth with it. She refused my offer, but thankfully shut the hell up!

So, although we may have lost, hopefully I have rid the world of a few ignorant bitches. Probably not, but the thought tickles my insides. As for the Bengals -- we'll get 'em next time!

Welcome Back!

I know I haven't been around lately. I was scooped up by the proper authorities (Rachel Ray) and taught how to use kitchen utensils properly. I was then shipped off to an institution to learn how to deal with my anger issues. They thought they had fixed me and let me return home.

Kidding.

Shit has been busy around here. Spending much of my time with the kids over the summer and then getting ready for the start of a new school year, getting over the fact that Dick (my husband) has left again, and trying to find a job had consumed all my time here lately, but I'm back and bitchier than ever.

I'll be leaving Friday to watch my beloved Bengals cream my brother's Broncos in the season opening NFL game, but after that, I will make it a point to update this blog more frequently. All the dirt about my husband, neighbors, pervy men (and now women) will all be open for discussion. Thanks for keeping an eye on this blog and my apologies for abandoning it as long as I had.