A Day in the Life of One Damn Broad

On some days, you feel like death could be fun. You know, those days when someone pisses you off and you just hope they end up getting anally raped by a fat man with tits. Today was one of those days. The first thing I saw when I woke up in the morning was my husband. You would think this to be romantic, but, really, who likes morning breath? After 10 years of marriage, he just seems a tad less sexy. I walked into the kitchen, turned on the t.v. and, ironically, saw a toothpaste commercial. This would have made me laugh, but today it made me want to go to Crest headquarters and plant an A-bomb or...infect myself with smallpox and spread it or something. Whatever works...that'd show 'em...right? According to this commercial, the toothpaste could whiten your teeth, freshen your breath, and, yes, give you a big ole orgasm! Orgasm. From toothpaste. Gives whole new meaning to the term "oral pleasure," doesn't it? Sadly, I bought that toothpaste later...you know...just to see. When I got on the scale, I had gained weight. That just annoyed me. So, to hell with the Atkins diet! I don't like steak, I miss cookies, and it's not working anyway. I like to think that somehow, in my youth, I angered the scale gods and now they just play sneaky tricks on me. It's those damn mirror gods that ruin my theory. When I got to work, I found out that my boss has testicular cancer. What the hell do you do with that? I didn't know whether to shout hallelujah because he's an ass, to cry because it was socially expected of me, or to laugh because, well, the old man has cancer in his balls! After work, I went to Wal Mart. God, I hate Wal Mart. It's just something about all those fat old women in stretch jeans buying pound upon pound of cheap Rimmel makeup...it reminds me of the hag I'll be in a few years. Very depressing. And seriously, Wal Mart needs stoplights...one of these days I'm going to run into an intersection, almost kill a small child, and bust open my skull on some closeout fishing rods. Call it Jewish fatalism, but I swear it's going to happen. Oh yeah, and I bought the toothpaste. I know you all want to know - no orgams. Sorry. Actually, I am really really sorry...it was rather disappointing. When I got home I had to cook dinner. Having me cook is a feat only for those can afford some health risks. It takes an act of the Almighty for me to make a microwavable pot pie. It's not like I'd put arsenic in the gravy...or, well, okay, yeah I would. After that, I just fell asleep wathicng some wife-beater movie on Lifetime. That's right, I watch lonely housewife t.v. Three cheers for me. Now I hope you learned some lesson from this little chat. If nothing else, at least to stay away from quirky, middle-aged women from now on. Damn broads will talk your ear off, won't they?1