My Brand of Crazy

I have a verrrrry particular brand of bitchy. This is not everyone’s niche of nuts, a quite specific style of psycho, if you will.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Courtroom:

Please, for the love of goddess, stop insisting that you are into “crazy” unless you are prepared for the repercussions. You asked for it?!

Furthermore, don’t claim to be kinky unless you are prepared to prove it.

When I mouth off and act like a sassy little cunt, it’s usually for one of three reasons: I am PMSing, ovulating OR in need of attention. I will say some motherfucking outlandish shit when my hormones are off or if I feel neglected.

Cheat Code: A real good fuck, cuddle, and then snack usually resolves all of my attitude problems.


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Being born and raised in the south should have made me more inbred and less tolerant, but something went wrong in the grand scheme of these damned rebels. I am; brutally honest, a bad driver with a record to prove it, a connoisseur of stand-up comedy, the eldest child, an aware procrastinator, semi-sweet, the result of my mother losing her virginity, easily excitable, a lover of music, a pretty shit liar, late to any event no matter what, myself without apology.

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