No One Likes Rebuplicans

This is a little out of left field, but I was having a conversation with this crazy white bitch from Ohio. And we all know people from Ohio are fucking nuts. She's actually pretty cool when she's not trying to stab people.

Ohio, who is Republican, apparently came to the sudden realization that no one likes Republicans. Which is true.

For whatever reason, I came to the realization that it appears in some kind of unspoken law, that you can't be black and be a Republican, unless you're Condoleezza Rice, who black people don't consider black anyways. How did she make it so far in politics with a jacked up ass name like that?

It's like a fat person who starves themselves. That actually makes no sense. But I think that may have been my point. I mean, what fat person do you know that would willing starve themselves?

It's like this fat girl I know who's always complaining about being fat as she stuffs a 12 inch sub down her throat and complains 15 minutes later that she's still hungry and talks about how she's watching her weight by only eating 1 of the 2 12 inch subs she bought and downing it with a diet coke. See? No sense. Sleep deprivation is starting to get to me.

Don't Know Where I'm Going With This

I had something in mind that I really wanted to write about but I couldn't find the assignment thingy that I was looking for.

It had something to do with throwing people off an airplane and who should die and who should live and something else about a pedophile, welfare, a priest, a convicted felon and a baby mama who contributes nothing to society.

Oh well, if I find it, I'll post it.

Ummmm yeah...

Sometimes when I watch the commercials for depression, it makes me happy. I think it's the one for Cymbalta.

The one that goes, "Depression can hurt. Cymbalta can help".

Maybe it's not Cymbalta, I'm really not sure, but I really do love those commercials. They make me happy and feel tingly all over.

Then sometimes I start to think about the little rolly ball guy on the commercial. He looks like dough or something. And then he's all sad til he takes his meds, then he's suddenly all happy again. Strangely comforting.

Sometimes I think that I'm bipolar, but I know I'm not because my symptoms aren't as wildly out of balance as someone who actually suffers from the disorder.

Then I really think and I realize, "No there's nothing wrong with you. You're just angry. Maybe that's why you're such an asshole".

Maybe I'm right...

A certain someone has suggested that I seek anger management, but I really don't think I'm as angry as they're trying to make it seem.

I know that I do tend to lose my temper pretty quick and it's usually pretty unpredictable, but I don't think it's that bad.

I've been sitting here and going on and on about nothing...

I guess it's just one of those days...

Can't Shit, But I'm Not Constipated

I'm feeling pretty frustrated today. I have this urge to shit and I just can't seem to get it out. It doesn't quit feel like constipation so I'm not really sure what that's all about.

Maybe I should write a "Can't Shit, But I'm Not Constipated" song. Something along the lines of this:

I need to shit
But it wont come out
I'm not constipated
But I need to shit

Bubbles in my gut
I'm not a fucking slut
I need to shit
But I'm not constipated

It's work in progress. They always are. But anyways, enough about that.

So I received this really random myspace message from some guy (assuming it's their real page). Really weird:
He's not on my friends list and I know I don't know him. Maybe he just wanted some attention or maybe hes the same person who posted as Anonymous on my Git Er Dun, Ya'll blog. I just don't get why this was forwarded to me.

Obviously I'm a huge advocate of freedom of speech, especially because I like to talk so much shit, hehe. Bottom line is this message doesn't apply to me so I'm not really sure why I got it from some guy that I don't even know or that isn't on my Angry Girlfriend myspace friends list to begin with.

Hey dude that I don't know! Guess what? I think your creepy and a little weird. And you know what else? Women have vagina's. Well, most woman do. But I'm the kind of woman that does have a vagina. Oh yea, and one more thing:

I just shit, shit, shit
Cause I'm not constipated
I just shit, shit, shit
Cause I'm not constipated

How do you like those pineapples?

How I Love Our Conversations

Everyone's got that one friend that always understand them, even when the rest of the world doesn't.

Of course I have multiple friends who understand me on different levels, but I have a very different level that most of my other friends don't understand.

I'm not sure what to call this level. I guess it's my level of vaginaness. One of these days I'm going to count the amount of time that I use the word vagina in a day because I know that I use it a lot more frequently then the norm.

Hell, I think I say vagina more often then an OBG-YN.

Oh how I love my random text messaging conversations with Too-Tall. Like today:

Too-Tall: Peepee balls

Me: Vagina juice

Too-Tall: Dingleberries

Me: Titty hairs

Too-Tall: Dry nipple juice

Me: Menstrual clots

Too-Tall: Diarrhea secretions

Me: Cucaracha nuts

Too-Tall: Pubic lice bites

Me: Vaginal cobwebs

The whole conversation may seem meaningless, random, and somewhat bizarre to an outsider, but to us, its code.

We had a complete conversation about "stuff".

And what was that "stuff"? None of your damn business. If we wanted you to know, we'd talk like normal people.

Oh, how I love out conversations.

On a completely irrelevant note, this past weekend, my vagina stood me up like an erected cock. I'm still a little angry about that, but I still love my vag.

A Little Random, But Always Relevant

I've been pretty stressed out lately since the bitch, who's face resembles a horrific, mutilated and mauled vagina has been harassing me. But I can't sit here and play the victim because I been giving it right back to her.

I'm determined to one day anally penetrate her with a strap-on, as I'm sure she would like it, being the whore that she is.

Anyways, I'm not gonna waste anymore time blogging about cunt sucking whores, who think they run shit, when in fact they don't, not to mention her vaginal secretions leave a horrible stench on an unsuspecting victims bed sheets (or so I've heard).

But enough about that. Think happy thoughts.

So the weather is changing, and it's getting cold outside.

You know what that means? An increase in unexpected pregnancies.

You know how it goes. It starts getting cold outside, so all you want to stay shacked up as much as possible. You drink a little liquor to keep you warm and then... BAAAAM... You're knocked up and trying to figure out, "How the hell did that happen?"

I'm sure by the holidays, at least one person you know, if not more, will call you with the news that they're knocked up. And though some of them might try to pretend that it was planned, you can almost guarantee that if the couple conceived sometime in the winter, it wasn't.

Of course, this little rule doesn't apply to gay couples.

So the bottom line is, friends don't let friends drink and shack up in the winter with out the proper supervision. Then again, that could just lead to a massive orgy and, well, that's a whole different subject that I'm not gonna touch, at least not today.

Random Dream

I had the weirdest dream last night. It was all very chaotic and really hard to understand, but there was some weird unseen presence that was destroying the city.

Everyone was in complete panic. Some oil tank lifted in midair and then went flying across the street. It crushed my friend and killed her instantly.

I ran with panic over to my car and tried to put in the key. But something was holding me back and I was watching some unseen force dent it as I tried to get in.

I finally get in and haul ass. I don't know where I am but I think I'm suppose to be there. There are familiar faces but I still don't feel safe.

Some weird song is playing and I've never heard it before, but I know that I like it.

I woke up with the weird song still playing in my head, and was really annoyed by it. My first thought was, "What the fuck was that all about?"

It was all really weird, but in another hour or so, it'll be all cloudy and I probably wont be able to remember much of it.

So ummm, yeah.

Random Thought

Is it so wrong that I like to masturbate to the thought of my boyfriend having sex with another woman?

It doesn't mean that I actually want him to sleep with another woman... unless she's really hot...

But if she were really that hot, then she wouldn't want him anyways... she'd want me (*wink*)

Say Whaat?

So... four hours later, and I have nothing better to do, then post another blog about my bowel movements.

That is, I was about to take another shit, for like the 10th time today, until this spic lady came knocking at the door. Actually, thats not even relevant to anything.

Then again, maybe it is. She complemented me on my newly, blue-dyed hair, but something tells me that bitch is sneaky and is up to something. Actually, I'm just assuming that she's sneaky cause she's a wetback. You know her ass has crossed a few borders, illegally.

Once again, this is all really not relevant to anything.

I've noticed that its usually harder for me to focus on any particular subject when I'm on my period, which is why I tend not to write anything when I am on my period. I got shit for brains right about now and I'm basically rambling on about absolutely nothing.

You still with me?

Doesn't matter, I'll still ramble on...

So my new project song will be called "The Slut Song". It'll go something like this:

I'm a slut and you're a slut
So lets all fuck
Right up the butt

I like sex right on the grass
and you like sex right up your ass

Lets fuck
Lets suck
Lets do it rough
It's fun
I'm done
So hurry, cum

Anyways, it's a work in progress. And now I'm off to the can... again...

Say What?

It's that time of month... again...

I'm on my period and I feel like shit. Bloated, crampy, bitchy, moody, and the other emotions that come with having a period.

I tend to shit a lot more often while I'm on my period. I really don't know why that is, and I really don't care, but I tend to get some of my most creative ideas while I'm sitting on the can taking a shit.

In the time it took me to pull down my pants, take a shit and wipe, I had written a song, which I wont post until I record it. It's a pretty good song though, inspired partly by my anger and rage towards The Boyfriend, but I took it to an angrier level because I was in such a bitchy mood.

This posting really serves no purpose, but I just wanted to share the face that I wrote a song, while on the can, taking a shit, and menstruating.

Oh, and for anyone who gives a flying fuck, my birthday is on Friday. YEH ME!

Feel free to send me a present, or leave me a birthday wish, or at least a fuckin eCard: angrygirlfriend@gmail.com