Monday

Unwise Old Man

WWSD? Suzie would ignore them and go on about her chore.

I hate grocery shopping. It has to be the worst chore ever (aside from scrubbing pissy toilet seats). It probably doesn't help that my local market tends to be the hangout for horny, old men. You know the kind -- they stare you up and down, casting you in their mental pornos while grabbing their crotch as if they've developed a sudden itch. Every once in a while, I guess the grabbing gets good to them and the utter stupid shit. Yesterday, I had enough.

They saw me as soon as I walked in. The hairy old bastard is the worst. He will stare at me like I would never notice. He does not care who sees him fondling his (lack of a) package. He is downright rude and I was flat out pissy (I was in the middle of making homemade mac and cheese when I realized I was out of milk). I knew this was going to get ugly.

As usual, looking like a duck with ducklings in tow, I dash down the aisle, grab the milk, and proceed to check out. The cashier rings my purchase, I pay, and I head for the door. Just as I reach the door, there went the comment -- Will you look at the ass on her.

Now keep in mind that my kids were with me and this comment was made loud enough for all in earshot to hear.

I completely lost it at this point. I did not want my kids to witness what I was about to do so I had them sit on the bench by the door (facing the opposite direction) and gave them my mobile phone to take pictures of the birds outside. I then walked over to the hairy bastard and told him that not only did I have an ass, I could act like one as well. I opened the milk, poured it down his pants, and for once this man was speechless.

Needless to say, we didn't have mac and cheese last night, but I feel better knowing the milk was used for a greater purpose.

Saturday

I'd Rather Date The Devil

WWSD? Suzie would accept the invitation and have herself a lovely day.

I cannot believe the balls Dick possesses. How the hell do you leave your family for over three weeks and then invite them to go fishing with you like nothing has happened? What makes him think I will simply overlook the fact that he's been cuddling up to strippers for affection and accept an invitation to do anything other than string him up by the balls? I swear this man has been drinking some silly juice to think I would be remotely interested.

I'd rather date the Devil than spend even a second with Dick. I'd don a bright red, satin dress with my longest, spikiest heels. I'd walk hand in hand with the demon. We'd eat at a fine restaurant and pick the warmest corner to sit. He'd entertain me with idle tales and utter lies, but I wouldn't care. He'd trick me into coming back to his place for a nightcap and I'd find myself trapped in the depths of hell for eternity. This appeals to me so much more than being on a boat with Dick.

I ended up answering his text with this:

"I appreciate the offer however, I must admit that I'd rather hang myself with my own bed-sheets than to spend another moment with you. You repulse me in ways I cannot describe. It would be so kind of you to lose my number and never call or text me again. Enjoy your day and may your penis get caught in your zipper -- twice."

I am beginning to think there is truth in the old saying that some men think only with their dicks. He's such a prick! Now if you'll excuse me, Lucifer's calling.

Friday

Monkey See, Monkey Don't Do

WWSD? Suzie would take the mimicry as a compliment.

I can't stand copycats. I get irritated by unoriginal, thoughtless people who can't come up with their own shit. I don't mind someone borrowing ideas, but to copy and paste my whole damn post? Utterly ridiculous! I don't work my ass off in life to have someone else take the credit. This bitch needs to back the fuck up. (sorry for cussing)

It started with an email that had Miss Suzie - Please read this! as the subject. Hoping it was some sort of note confessing one's love for me and endless praises of how well I write, I opened it. To my horror, I found out that one of my beloved readers had stumbled onto another blog that was posting my stuff -- word for word nonetheless. When I visited the blog, my ears began burning and my blood began to boil. There, in black and white, was the words I had written.

I did as any good little Suzie would do (with the added flair I bring to the term). I left a heartfelt comment praising this woman for keeping it together in such terrible times. I wished her and her children well. I badmouthed Dick and told her she was better off without him. I then asked if she'd visit my blog as I think she could learn a thing or two. Three hours later, her blog is gone. I'm taking it that she got the hint.

For future reference, I do not care if you use my ideas. Call your husband Dick, refer to yourself as Suzie, and bitch and complain about all of life's woes. I couldn't care less and would welcome the competition. All I ask is don't copy me word for word. I write in a way that my personality shines through and more than likely, you wouldn't do it justice. There is only one me -- I'd like to keep it that way.