Friday

Suzie's School of De-Slut

Can someone please explain something to me: What is causing teenage girls in America today to wake up and decide, "Hey, I want to be a whore?"

As much as I would love to blame it on Miley Cyrus and her nearly nude shots and stripper pole dance, I cannot. This was going on way before she came along. I would love to blame it on Britney and her wonderful display of who-ha, but no -- I cannot. I would even adore being able to blame it on the added hormones in cow's milk these days, but that only gives them tits earlier, it doesn't turn them into sluts.

It seems everywhere I go these days, I am confronted with this dilemma. The poor girls are letting all their girly bits hang out, act as if they couldn't care less about who gets between their legs, and just look downright disgusting. I would love nothing more than to sit down with their parents and with the most sternest of faces, offer a whopping "What the fuck?" Something has to give.

I have decided to help these poor girls. They must not know any better, so someone should inform them. The next time I see ass crack, I will politely approach the offender and in as loud a voice as I can muster, I will announce it to her. The next time I see ungirly-like conduct, I will approach and ask how much does she charge. The next time I see one of these poor souls with their parents, I will walk over, introduce myself, and tell them if they need financial assistance to provide decent clothes for their daughter, I'd be happy to help. I'll then leave them my card which reads, "Miss Suzie's School of De-Slut -- turning ho's into ladies."

I'm sure none of this will go over well, but somebody has to do something, right?

Tuesday

In Love Or Obsessed

1. In love: You call just to say hi.
Obsessed: You call to say hi. Five minutes later, you call to say you're missing them. Ten minutes later, you call to say you're thinking of them. Twenty minutes later, you start blocking your number and dialing just to hear their voice.

2. In love: You like to wear his shirt from time to time.
Obsessed: Not only do you wear his shirt, but you offer to wash his laundry so that you can wear his underwear too.

3. In love: You talk about them from time to time.
Obsessed: You can't have one conversation without mentioning their name. "Yeah, so and so thinks the same thing." "So and so said it was going to rain today." "I wish so and so was here to hear this."

4. In love: You carry their picture in your wallet.
Obsessed: You made copies of the picture and hung them all over your bedroom walls because their face is the first thing you want to see in the morning.

5. In love: You write sweet little love notes and leave them where they'll be found.
Obsessed: You write a sweet long novel of a note then drive to their work and leave it on their windshield. You then write a second one and tape it to their front door just in case they missed the first one.

6. In love: When you're apart, your heart grows fonder.
Obsessed: When you're apart, you think about putting on a diaper and attempting to track them down even if it takes all night.

7: In love: You are willing to compromise.
Obsessed: You are willing to change anything and everything just to make them happy, even if it kills you.

8. In love: You feel as if you can't live without them.
Obsessed: You know you can't live without them and have already devised a plan to fix things should they try to end things.

9. In love: You cherish the time spent together.
Obsessed: Not only do you cherish the time spent together, you become downright physically ill if you don't get enough of it.

10. In love: You can see this person in your life forever.
Obsessed: You have threatened to harm yourself if this person isn't in your life.

Thursday

Stalker On Aisle 1, 2, 3...

I really need to find a new grocery store. Not only are the old perves a constant nuisance, there now seems to be a stalker to deal with. The last several times I've went grocery shopping, this employee follows me up and down the aisles -- to the point my son even asks why is this guy following us? I'm not sure if he has some mental issues or if he is just a nutjob, but I couldn't take it yesterday.

As I rounded the third aisle, I realized the stalker was hot on my tail yet again. I finally said enough is enough and turned around. Staring at him like I wanted nothing more than to run him over repeatedly with my cart, I stood there -- waiting. He finally realized I wasn't going anywhere and tried to leave.

I followed him.

Everywhere he went, so did I. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, he finally realized what I was doing. He slowly headed to the back of the store and disappeared behind the doors with the sign that read employees only. Fuck that -- I went too. I continued to follow him until he finally turned around and said you're not supposed to be back here to which I replied:

"Oh really? And I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to be stalking the customers. You see those milk crates over there? If you ever follow me around this store again, I will personally stuff your crazy ass into one and put you in the cardboard baler. I will then flick the switch and giggle as the damn thing crushes your worthless little body. Have I made myself clear?"

The loon nodded and I walked back out, finished my shopping, and carried my ass home.
(Suzie +1 -- Stalker 0)