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.

Wednesday

Are They For Reel?

WWSD? Suzie doesn't have time for movies when there are so many more important things to be doing.

I need to quit watching the Lifetime channel. It is seriously depressing me.

I am beginning to despise movies, especially romantic comedies. They never depict truthful relationships. They spoon feed me this vision of romance that leaves me wanting to hurl yesterday's dinner. Sure, most of them have some sort of tragedy happening at some point or another, but they always end the same way -- the boys gets the girl. Barf!

What I wouldn't give to go to the cinema and see a real romance story. One in which the woman has children and actually ages. A movie in which the love scene is interrupted by children, dogs, a cat, or hell, even a pot bellied pig. I want to see a movie that doesn't put band-aids on the truth about relationships. I want to see the band-aid ripped off and the wound laying open for all to see. Romance isn't perfect, so why the hell are the movies?

I blame these movies for the unhappiness of women today. They've been fed this bullshit for so long that they actually think this is what love is like. They don't understand when times get tough because it didn't happen that way in the movies. They expect their men to behave like well trained monkeys and actually get pissy when they act human. Give me a break!

Real relationships don't come with directors yelling Cut! They don't take breaks to powder their noses. They don't read from scripts and do not have lines to memorize. Reality doesn't need its own trailer and personal assistant. It just doesn't work that way.

With all this said, I am banning myself from all the girly channels until further notice. If you need me, I'll be the chick drooling over the ESPN guys.