i hate bitches.

and not the kind of bitches you think i mean - i actually love those kinds of bitches with all my heart. no no, there are certain types of bitches that make me fume. allow me to describe who and what i am talking about:

bitches who are eating outside on the patio of a french bistro being misted by summer misters: go f*ck yourselves. really. i'm glad you don't have to work or make some sort of living and get to sit outside on a wednesday afternoon enjoying a glass of delicious nectar and eating incredibly succulent dishes. or maybe you do have to work, but you get 2.5 hour lunch breaks and can take your sweet, parisian time. well, guess what? mon nom est emma et je vous déteste, les chiennes (freetranslation.com, what what!)

bitches who are taking power walks during the day: pretty much in the same categorical grouping as the bitches above. oh so like, you're so unambitious and wealthy that you get to just stay home and take a big, long power walk around the neighborhood during the day with a massive soda cup in your hand? don't trip and fall. better yet, do. because then maybe you'll be hospitalized and have some sort of epiphany like, "hey. if i had responsibilites, i wouldn't have to fall anymore." bitch. es.

i may add to this, but those are the 2 that stick out in my mind the most nowadays as i'm driving around during my lunch hour (because that's what i use my lunch hour for - aimless driving. it's a really great dieting tool).

bitches ain't shit. unless you're one of my bitches, and then you're worth a ton. wink.