You know, I haven’t gotten to putting up that Valentines Day shit yet. I’m sure I haven’t ruined anyone’s day yet by not putting it up either. I don’t believe they are lining up to buy it from me or anything. I’ve got too much shit on my list already without worrying about another worthless holiday. This is a total woman holiday anyway, and as we all know; women are crazy.
If you don’t believe that, tell me what the greatest threat to airline security is? It’s not al-Qaida anymore, it’s drunk women. What the hell is going on here with all these women freaking out on the planes? Is it some sort of PMS amplified by the altitude? I think there should be emergency syringes on all airplanes loaded with Pamprin in a liquid form that can be injected directly into these crazy bitches before they completely snap. Maybe this is why we didn’t have a terrorist attack over the holidays. There was a terrorist onboard thinking… well I can’t follow that shit.
As long as we’re on the subject of crazy bitches, we can’t leave out my favorite one. The gal from Ohio (what the fuck is in the water down there Lisa?) who claimed she bought the winning lottery ticket and lost it and the money was rightfully hers. Why have I never thought of that shit? Oh yeah, because I have at least a half a brain – depending on who’s opinion you get. I guess I’m a little baffled about this whole thing. She said she lost the ticket, then the rightful owner claims the prize and she tries to stop the lottery board from paying her. At what point do you go… holy shit, I don’t have any ground to stand on and I’m totally fucked. I guess that happens today, which is a little too late because now she is facing a charge of filing a false police report which is punishable by 30 days to six months in prison and a $1,000 fine. Guess being broke doesn’t look so bad compared to that. If I was the woman that won I would pay this woman’s $1,000 fine just as a subtle slap in the face. Then again, I’m 1/4 asshole.
Please note that my use of the word SIKE in the title of today’s blog does not mean I condone the use of the word, just that I remember when it was used. If you don’t know what that means then you are a young punk. I’m not old… fuckin little bastards with your loud hip hop music blasting…