How To Roast A Female Dog

WWSD? Suzie would have handled the situation with grace and poise.

Me? Not a chance.

I don't mind people talking about me, I really don't. It's all just part of life. What I do have a problem with is if you talk about me, at least know what the hell you are talking about.

Apparently word has gotten around the neighborhood that Dick has been gone for a week and apparently the boob brigade (also known as the other mothers) have been quick to start the gossip fest. My daughter came home from school asking if Daddy had left to be with another woman. After a few questions, I discovered that little Johnny No-Teeth had told her this at lunch.

I knew I should have let my blood cool down a bit, but I was pissed. I don't care what you say to me, but do not screw with my kids!

Needless to say, I marched my ass right on over to the home of Mrs. No-Teeth and asked her what the hell was going on. After five minutes of fumbling for something to say, all she could muster was "He must have heard us talking." I was livid at this point. I had just realized that I left my damn roast in the oven and it would probably be dry by the time I ripped this bitch a new one and returned home.

I politely informed her that yes, Dick has been gone for a week. I also told her that I do not mind her and her friends chit-chatting about the situation, but if they were going to talk about it, they should at least have the facts straight. I told her Dick did not leave because he found someone else, but that he left because I have a problem. It seems I have developed an addiction to all the men in the neighborhood and that her husband was next. Without giving her a chance to whine, I marched my booty right back home (and yes, my damn roast was dry).

I'm sure she got on the phone shortly thereafter, but as long as they are getting their shit straight, they will be fine.

Phone Sex

WWSD? Suzie would politely ask them to put her number on the do not call list.

I hate telemarketers (not the actual person, but what they do). They are the most persistent bunch of douchebags on planet Earth and call at very inappropriate moments attempting to sell me some bullshit that I do not need (and am pretty sure I had just told them that the week before). There is one in particular who calls about twice a week. I had started ignoring the call and letting the machine get it, but I was in a rather pissy mood yesterday and figured I'd have a little fun at his expense.

The conversation started like all the ones before -- "Miss Suzie," (Uh, you didn't really think I was going to put my real name there, did you?) "this is Tim from (insert company's name here because I forgot it) and I'd like to ask you a few questions if I may?"

I answer him with "Oh, sure. Now you call me back. You had no problem ignoring me for the last two weeks after our night of lustful passion. That's what is wrong with you men. You have no problem being up close and personal while you're getting your jollies off, but heaven forbid you actually call us back. What do you think -- it makes you look weak? Well you little dickhead, you weren't that strong to begin with and you proved that the other night. Sex with you was like sitting through a speech given by Porky Pig -- a long, drawn-out production full of fumbles and at the end, I was left with the feeling "well that's all folks." Grow some balls and quit being the little prick the world expects you to be. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a custard to attend to."

Needless to say, he hung up rather quickly. I know, I know. That was rather mean of me, but it felt oh so good. And that's the thing about calling a stranger's house -- you never know what you're going to get. I'm sure he got shit on all day -- at least I did it in a slightly entertaining way.

Ode To Suzie

Suzie Q: Are you this kind of Suzie?

"Hi Suzie,

I'm enjoying reading your blog and I have a poem I'd like to share with you. I thought of posting it to your blog, but then I thought, it's your blog, you might not want my little limerick there. Up to you - if you want to spread it further, go for it.

Limerick for all the Suzies in the World

This woman I know called Suzie
was carrying on one night like a floozy.
Reputation earnt
and a hard lesson learnt -
never do THAT in a jacuzzi!
by: Carolyn Cordon

Are you that kind of Suzie? I bet your readers think you are!"

***

Hi Carolyn

I enjoyed your poem tremendously. I'm not sure how my readers see me, but I think this would sum it up well:

There was a nice lady named Suzie
who apparently wasn't so choosy.
She married a prick
and calls him Dick.
Now her blood stays boiling and oozy.

~Feel free to add your own Suzie Limerick.~