Why PMS is the Most Liberating Gift from God

"Guess what time it is?  TOM is coming!", is how I announce it.  You may have your own manner of notification (megaphone, billboard) to warn everyone in a four block radius that the psychotic bitch marathon is about to begin.  Grab some popcorn, a pound of M&M's, and a straight jacket with a diaper because the time is now, dammit!
Actually, mine isn't that bad.  I just sit behind my computer, sitting up in bed, and give the back of #3's head the stink eye, just like I am now.  He has no idea how many times I have asked the Almighty why children are starving to death in Ethiopia but he gets to continue breathing in the good air meant for non-sociopath people.  That is the extent of my PMS, with the exception of the pillow-soaking tears from regret, shame, and a lack of Adderal.  Thankfully the selection of drugs here is bountiful and I just double up.  It's the American Way here in Colombia.
So, with my subtle hints to #3, he hears it's a coming.  He sees the look in my bloodshot eyes, bloated face, and hair I brushed with a hand mixer, grabs the list for the store and makes a run for the door.  I no longer want to send Hannibal Lector for his ass, but sigh deeply and hope his taxi driver is drunk.  But only on the way home, and close to the house, so I can still get the bags of stuff from the car.  Love is, after all, about what I can guilt #3 into doing for me.  And that is the blessing in disguise of PMS.  As if you didn't already know.
Milk that baby for all it's worth.  My Mommy taught me from when I was just a little 'ho.  But now I'm a big 'Ho, and she was right.  That, and watch out for the jackalope.  I think she may have been wrong on that one.   She was a flower child, you know.  Weren't they all back then?
Words of Twaddle for the day-"Medellin is God's rehab."  Genius, huh?  He never seizes to amaze.
Be well, or don't.

    

The Love of my Life, and the bitch who owes me a lap dance.

My BFF and I are connected at the hip.  Hers is much lower to the ground though, and she has to pee every two hours, which has become like a confusing twister game because she is also loosing her sight a bit.  Sadie is my one and only forever love.  She is 91 (13 times 7) but in her Chihuahua\greyhound mind, much younger.  We have been through everything, including, but not limited to one marriage, one divorce, near-death and legally dead, and transcontinental travels.  I saved her life one time when #2 dumbass left the generator in the garage when hurricane Jeanne blew out the power for 2 1\2 weeks back in 2004  I had to revive her with puppy CPR, as she was not breathing, loosing bodily functions in my arms, and my 3 kids were screaming bloody murder as their only pet showed all signs of checking out.  Just like a scene from the movie "Defending your life" where Meryl Streep's character rescues and comforts her children from their home engulfed in flames.  The vet said it was probable she would have kidney or liver damage, but so far, so good, and I thank The Almighty every day for her. 

Not her best mug shot.  By far.  But what should I expect, she just woke up. 

 

To my delight, #2 has managed to land another maiditute.  I couldn't be happier!  This one is quite fat, which means she must be able to cook, so he will get fat also! Bonus!  However, she seemed to be a small minded heifer as well, because she wrote me an email telling me what kind of a person I was, like I didn't already know.  Maybe she is an expert or something.  Doubtful, but possible.  Anyway, she was living with her parents but cooked her way into moving in with #2 and tagging her teenage daughter in as well.  Now, #2 WAS a car salesman when we met 20 years ago, and by the time I left his lazy ass he was running the dealership.  Does she think he got there on his own merit?  His exact words were 'I didn't know I could until you told me.'  So, I ask you, what kind of thank you should I be expecting?  A cup of coffee, at least, but knowing his aficionado for strip clubs, I am gonna go with lap dance.  But I would settle for a simple bending over and kissing my size 4 ass.  Its only a matter of time, gurlfriend, until he is back online chatting with women acting like he is a lesbian, and wanting you to do something with his finger you will have nightmares about.  Maybe I shouldn't tell her these things.  No one told me! 

Going out to get high.  Back later with your drug induced Words of Twaddle.