It's an MBA not a PsyD!!!

Jeez. If I ever decide to become a housewife fucking shoot me in the head. Seriously. Do it.

Today must have been a slow day on The View or something because my phone has been jumping around with text after text from the Hw's. Every single one of them is on meds, has an eating disorder, been to the psych ward, perpetually broke, drink wine like fucking kool-aid, and way too stressed out. I manage a multi million dollar division here at the Corporate Brothel and I don't have this stress. I swear it wears off on ya too. Now I'm outraged over who got kicked off on Project Runway last night. I tried to play house 3 years ago. Divorced less than a year later and realize I am not the marrying kind. To which the HWs inform me that I cannot reincarnate Sex and the City for my own life. Babies and misery are where it's at. Because they are such pillars of sanity and happiness, right? It's frustrating, I love them all really I do, but it gets so goddamned old!!!

I guess the PoPo coming to my house last night is big news in the ol' neighborhood. Lisa's brother is on the Force and told her that Jim the Wingnut can't take a hint. And once Lisa knows something then the whole world does. I was lamenting to her about the whole situation and what I should do.

"Talk to him, he obviously needs to be let down gently."

Really? I was thinking more along the lines of pepper spraying him, then stabbing him in the face with a shoe horn.

"Is he worse than Mike?"

ugh, Mike the fucking Fireman. He is gross. Can't finish the job in bed because he's on Paxil. Screws your brains out too. It's fun for like the first 4 hours then you just start chafing. He's a good enough guy and all but he's got like 5 kids, and he WAXES his WHOLE BODY. No shit...WAXES. So it's like being in bed with a baby. No girl should be doing a guy smoother than her, ok? CR-EEPS me out. So much so that I, like a retard, texted him after our last hook up.

I don't think we're compatible, let's just be friends ok?

Yeah, that bridge has burned.

This starts Lisa's diatribe on casual sex being bad for the soul and Dr. Phil's me to death. blah,blah,blah. This coming from someone who keeps popping out babies every year to save her marriage. Her scumbag husband is at the bar screwing whatever will touch him and she's coaching me...ok.

So once shes done handing out advice I give her mine...

Get you tubes tied, kick your sorry ass husband out, divorce his ass and get everything, go back to work and get a life!!! At least I'm not lapping up sloppy seconds of some bar whore just so I don't have to be alone!

"God Krys, you have some anger that is misdirected at me."

Oh shut up. I hate men because they make perfectly sane and beautiful women completely insane lap dogs!!!

Well conference call time. I have to listen to the weekly rah-rah and all of that shiz.