i’m in a bitch ass weird mood today. one thing i hate about being single is having no one to soothe me when i’m on the rag. i’m a selfesh brat today and i want someone to cook me a steak , bring my chocolates, pat my head and say “there there sugah.” i don’t even want to complain about my cramps, i swear. i just want someone nice and strong who smells nice to be sorry that i hurt. i had my ex so well trained in this regard..i almost miss the fucker right now.
i’m thinking there oughta be a service. a trade off if you will. he who is willing to deal with my poutyness gets the “yeah my period is over” bootycall.
menses maude in maine
GODDAMN. Is that all it takes? Don’t let this shit out or the entire flower and fancy restaurant industries will collapse!
Does this have to turn into one of those fucking self-help group hugathons, though? there, there honey, it’s GOOD blood. it’s GOOOD. it makes life and you were chosen to make life. let’s chant. let’s all be happy. let’s
Fuck, I got carried away there.
The problem here is you are obviously ragging RIGHT FUCKING NOW, and nothing you say counts. Because if you want us to forget all those fucked up nasty things you say to us while you’re on the rag, we have to excuse EVERYTHING you say. Can’t be selective. It’s all or nothing, baby.
So then, bring your ass back here in a week when you’re not flowing like the mighty Mississippi and let’s see if your plan has been altered.
Then, we’ll talk.
Now leave me the fuck alone.