My Best Friend
May 1, 2009 Creative Writing/Poetry, Friendship
for you I’ll bend
over backward
I’ll never pretend
to love you
your heart I’ll mend
when it’s broken
your enemies I’ll defend
to the fucking wall
beginning to end
through smiles and tears
my best friend
Tags: best friend, poetry
The Fuck Stops Here.
Mar 17, 2009 Friendship, Plunges, Relationships, Sex, Thoughts and Perceptions, Wicked Wisdoms
There are many reasons in the world as to why I detest bitches. My hatred for many who possess the all mighty vagina has a great deal to do with why I do not have many close knit girlfriends. I choose not to let very many broads into my heart.
Why?
Because bitches are fucking evil. They are snakey, manipulative, and competitively jealous. I have been burned by more female friendships than I can count on fingers and toes… and more often them than boys I have had penile contact with. These evil skanks will suck every ounce of respect out of another female. They will obtain and store information that will then be used so horribly against us, that, no matter how strong we are… a small piece of self-dignity will be lost.
At several points in my own life, friends have slept with my men. My first marriage ended because I caught my ‘best friend’/'maid of honor’ fucking my husband. In.The.Act. She had been fucking him the entire time we dated. I was just a baby then and I was unfortunately unable to see clear signs that I could call a bitch out for now. I have had some friends admit to it… and have had to learn through the grapevine about the deceit. At one point in my life, I cut out all friends that were women. No bullshit. If I had any females in my circle, they were either acquaintances or guy friend’s girlfriends. (not that they turned out any better in the long run… )
Looking back, I was bitter and lonely. I missed that female companionship. I am just NOW within the past 4 years, really taking the plunge and allowing my heart to open up and let other women love me. No bullshit. It is a growing point for me every single day. I fight it. I have second guessed all of my sister’s intentions at one point or another.
Right, wrong or indifferent… it is truth.
I have often wondered if the handful of times that this has happened to me was karma paying me back for the ONE time I fucked up. I usually seem to receive the strictest punishments. Like, if I were to commit murder… a bitch would FOR sure get the death penalty. That’s just my reality.
Regardless of the why’s, the fact is that it has happened to most of us… if not all of us. On either side of the coin. Or if you are lucky like me… BOTH sides. The difference between my fuck up, and other peoples fuck ups, is that I actually saw the damage I created by doing what I did and, even though my apologies didnt make a lick of difference at the time… I kept my head up and can look my still friend in her face and know that she knows that it actually was a mistake. And that I learned from it. As fucked up as it sounds, I am a better woman today for having gone through it.
Many of us do not have the capacity to take responsibility for our actions. We cannot see past the lust, or the desire to have the thing we aren’t supposed to have. So we flirt. We habitually push our pretty painted toes over that line. The line that is NEVER EVER EVER supposed to be crossed.
The question is, why do we do our girls so dirty?
Especially as grown women?
How does a 30 year old women see it to be acceptable to lay down in the bed that one of her best girlfriends has made with another person? Don’t get me wrong. The man in this dirty little sex-equation is just as wrong as she is. I will never pull the blame card out on one and not the other. HOWEVER, when she tells a best friend that she loves her, that she can trust her… that she will and will always be there for her… how does she look herself in the mirror after allowing a good secret-lovers-inspired fuck fest?
That’s right bitch. Are you paying attention now?
‘She’ cannot. And if ’she’ can… then all of the women in the world should pray for ‘her’. Because ’she’ has a wrath of misery and unhappiness waiting for ‘her’ trifling fucking ass.
Obviously, not ALL females are this way. I know this because I am not one of them. My sisters aren’t either. Those who I have spent the latter part of 20 years of my life looking for have sort of fallen into place… and are continuing to appear out of the woodwork. Why they weren’t meant to be there for me a decade ago, I have no idea. I am happy that they finally have made it into my heart. I am 99% confident that their intentions are what they should be: To love me unconditionally, as I do them.
Bottom Line: Don’t fuck your friends man. Ever.
Have you ever fucked your girlfriends man behind their back? (Or for the guys… your girlfriend’s friend) Why? Did you own it, or make excuses?
Have you been the victim of who you thought to be your best friend? How did this information come to you?
If you could throw out one piece of advice in respect to this topic… what would it be?
Tags: best friend, cheat, divorce. guilt, lonliness, marriage, medusa, shame
Hi Hater!
Jan 21, 2009 Friendship, Random, Ranteriffic, Relationships, Thoughts and Perceptions, Wicked Wisdoms
For those of you who know me, I am an extremely sentimental person. I reflect on my past a lot, and really revel in the times that I am able to reconnect with someone from my past. I can’t help it, because it is who I am. Part of my hard wiring. You also may already know about my 4 years served in the military. That time period in my life is something that I hold near and dear to my heart. I grew so much in that period of my life. I connected with lovers, friends and myself.
Furthermore, if you have partied with me… you also know that 99% of the time, I am a fun drunk. A happy, flirty, loveable drunk. I dont do drama. If I am out, it is kick it time. I dont get many of these moments to really let loose, so the last motherfucking thing I want to deal with is a dramafest. Not mine, not yours, not anybodies.
Where are you going with this, you ask? Well I will tell you. Heh.
This weekend I went on an overnight trip with Tarable and her mom for her mom’s birthday. Girls only, drunk fun. We rode the ferry over to a beautiful resort/casino and stayed in the Presidential Suite as if we were rock stars. We all kind-of needed to deflate for our own separate reasons, but it worked. We drank and ate and dolled the fuck up to go gamble on our coin-starred change.
When we arrived, we passed 2 guys. I immediately recognized him, but I could not put his face with where I knew him from. We stepped into the elevator and started our girls trip. I totally forgot about me running into him and commenced to vodka-ing with my girls. After hours in the casino, we made our way back to our room. Wasted. Like blurry wasted. As we were stumbling down the hallway, I ran into this guy again. This time, my endless shots of Stolichynaya jogged loose the brain cell that connected what time period he came from.
The Navy. The USS Carl Vinson, to be exact.
“Oh SHIT!” I slurred. “Daniel Floyd!” (Name changed to not get sued or whatever happens to people who use real names without expressed consent)
“I thought I knew you.” he smiled.
“OMG!! How have you been?! What have you been up to since you got out?”
“BlahBlahBlah… YakkitySchmakkity”
Some more “BlahBlahs and YakkitySchmakkitys” commenced before he asked: “Are you married?”
This is where all hell turns loose. Apparently his cunt of a fiancee was eavesdropping on our conversation. Or, she walked out shortly before he asked if I had a husband. Regardless, the skank starts yelling at him about being a son of a bitch and some more drama that I was not trying to be a part of.
What did I do? Walked the fuck away. Back to my room, my party, my fun. This dude’s sister in law comes to the door, asking what happened because apparently:
1) My Navy friend (duh) has a history of cheating.
2) The fiancee is convinced that we were going to fuck right there in the hall.
So my drunk self gets all lovey and “Oh no! It wasnt even LIKE that!!!” and we make our way to their room so I can apologize to the cunt fiancee about the misunderstanding. We go, I apologize… and somehow I offended this stupid cunt. I do not remember how or why… but I DO remember being physically removed from their room and called a whore.
Um.
Begin drunken offended and humiliated tailspin. I was so upset and offended that I brought this back into the party. Thank goodness for my best friend. She reminded me that I am better than that drama, and even though it was humiliating and offensive… I know that what I did in the situation was not wrong. She also reminded me that we were fucking hot bitches, and they were haters. Like, “Hi Hater” haters. Like, really fucking hating on the fact that her man cheats and probably with girls prettier than her trashy self. Yep, you put your hands on me and call me a whore when I am trying to be the bigger person, and I am gonna point the flaws.
Lesson Learned: Don’t answer the door. Just let them knock and think whatever they want to think, because no matter the amount of class and respect you try to have… you cannot force a trashy, sloppy, hater cuntskank to think anything different than what she already thinks.
Fucking Skank. That’s why your ‘man’ probably is still thinking about me.
Have you ever experienced Haterism?
Have your intentions ever been misunderstood?
Did you try to make it right with the person? Did it backfire?
Have you learned a life lesson recently? What was it?
Tags: best friend, cvn 70, girls night, hater, HI HATER, party, reconnection, sentimental, uss carl vinson
