Preggers… Jesus Christ!!
Oh heavens no, not me, I’m not preggers, thank God! I’m no breeder… and frankly, don’t tell anybody this, but I find it slightly disgusting, you know?
It looks so awful! None of my designer clothes would fit, my ankles would get swollen and I don’t want my belly distended like that. Well, unless it’s a food baby, of course (I sometimes get that way when I eat too much dairy too), but for nine months straight? That’s like eating beans 24/7 for 273.9 days and at the end, you have to squeeze out a bowling ball… no thanks hanky panks, where’s the goddamn glory in that?
Look, I know how all that crap starts too. It starts when you decide to let a man dip his cucumber into your Mint Julep… and hello?! Cucumbers don’t belong in Mint Juleps!! You can put ‘em in Mojitos, but the last thing we need around here in So Cal are more goddamn little Mojitos running around!
I mean, just how many kids do you have to make anyway? One should be enough… two’s pushing it, and three’s a job pool! Okay, I guess they’re great if you wanna have ‘em for cheap labor to clean up the house and take out the garbage whenever you tell them too, because Lord knows, once you allowed Mr. Cucumber inside your avocado, he turned into a couch potato, so someone’s gotta do it!
Listen, I don’t really mind all you fatties, I just get annoyed when you’re busting ass through the mall, pushing your goddamn GIANT, TRACTOR-TRAILER BABY STROLLER with your goddamn Jamba Juice in your chubby fingers nearly running me over… Jesus Christ! You think just because you cooked up a baby that you’re the queen now? You’re trying to push everyone out of your way with a baby canon, didn’t you do enough pushing in the birthing room?!
Are you pissed off or something?
Okay, I agree that’s a silly question… I’d be pissed off too if I had to deal with something that eats, shits and cries all day… and not just Mr. Couch Potato but the goddamn baby, too!
Happy Mother’s Day, by the way!
Look, the last thing I wanna do on Mother’s Day, is go out to eat somewhere because everybody is miserable, and you wanna know why? Because they’re EATING WITH THEIR MOTHER! Or even worse: their mother-in-law, hahahahahahahaha!
Now I remember why I’m single.
Oh yeah, I’m single again.
I mean, not again as in “a g a i n”, like it’s some sort of vinerial… vanereil… venereal disease. Being single isn’t like being preggers, where there’s something wrong with you, it just means that you’re supposedly taking a GODDAMN BREAK… whatever the hell that means! Yeah? Well I hate your mother’s cooking and I never liked the way you licked my Mint Julep anyway!!
Speaking of Mint Juleps (the official drink of the goddamn Kentucky Derby #whogivesashit) did you know that Bourbon is the new black? Yeah, I guess it’s the hot, new trend and all the ladies are drinking it now… well, except for the preggos. I’m not partial to it myself on account of getting sick off of the stuff when I was 16 years old with Bobby from across the street and…
So anyway, I don’t really like it but my friend asked me to try hers one night and it went down really smoothly… for about two goddamn seconds… and then my throat literally caught on fire! No, it’s true, I burped and it lit the candle on our table.
Funny thing is, I don’t remember what the stuff was called. Well, besides “bourbon” of course (I guess I’m really sensitive to alcohol or something) but anyway, there are all these small batch bourbon distilleries popping up all over the country, and they’re supposedly getting better and better at making the stuff and now it’s becoming a national pastime. Move over Jack, there’s a new sheriff in town!
I guess it doesn’t matter which kind you drink really, because at the end of the day, it’s all the same: you find yourself half-naked in the men’s restroom of the country & western bar at 2:00 am…