Memoir Monday - My One and Only Trashy Girl Fight

Hey Ferb!  I know what we're going to do today... 



It's Memoir Monday again.  It's time for you to go on over to Travis' blog at I Like to Fish... and indulge your funny bone.  Dude is a trip, and so are the bloggers he lists. 

I think it's probably already been established, but let's review just for kicks.  When I was a young college student, partying was my biggest priority.  Screw an education; I was there to get my groove on.  To tell the truth, those were THE best years of my life.  I was young and carefree with no responsibilities and no obligations.  School work was a breeze.  In addition, I was a teacher's pet.  Sadly, some of my grades were not necessarily earned.  I think I got some because my professors were males, and they were enamoured with my big boobies charm.  When I wasn't trying to persuade Dr. Niroomand to give me extra credit points so that I could have an A instead of a B, I was partying like a rock star.  Life was good!

Unfortunately, back then, I didn't realize how good.  In the last semester of my final year about two weeks before my finals, my boyfriend and I broke up.  :(  No, this wasn't Scotty.  This was the one that I thought was "THE" one.  We'd dated all through college.  Of course, we fought about as much as Scotty and I, but we were going to be together for-EVA!  Apparently, he had other plans for the rest of his life.

We went to college in a town about an hour and a half from our home town.  On occasion, we'd make the drive home to visit the parents and get our laundry done.  I remember this weekend like it was just yesterday.  He and I got into a HUGE fight about who would do the driving.  No, I am not kidding you.  We literally went to blows over our transportation arrangements.  It seems B wanted me to drive, but I was too tired.

"I'm not driving!  You're driving."
Oh, hell no!  It's your turn.  I drove last time.
"You bitch!"
You bastard!
"Well, then you are driving on the way back."
F~@k you!

It was the longest hour and a half drive in the history of the world.  Not a word was spoken.  He dropped me off at my parents' house and headed to his.  No goodbye, no go to hell.  NADA.  Take your sh!t and get the hell out of my car was written all over his face, though.

I found it a little weird that he made no attempts to call me that whole weekend.  Usually we'd get in a fight, cuss each other out, and then screw get back together again.  I've always been spookily intuitive, and this was no exception.  I could just feel that something wasn't right.  We'd gone without speaking before, but I knew this was different.

Sure enough, he'd gone to a friend's party that weekend and met another girl.  While I didn't get all the details, I am sure he got blind-running drunk and skanked it on out with ol' girl.  Anyho, he broke up with me.  Miss Thang was now his girl.  We dated for over three years, and Miss Thang replaced me in less than 72 hours. 

I was crushed!  I begged; I pleaded.  I even went over for several booty calls to try and work things out.  I looked like a blubbering idiot!  When you are heart-broken, your humility goes right out the window I guess.  Regardless, he tossed me aside like yesterday's boxers.  Even with a little dose of xanax and some scrumptious Chris Cogswell, I refused to leave with dignity.  I stalked him; I called; I...WTF was I doing???  My feeble attempts at reconciliation were for naught.  He had a new bi-otch.

Yes, Miss Thang.  Well, Miss Thang was a bit rougher than me.  She was from, what was then, a rural area of our county.  One of those country girls who chewed tabacco and wrestled pigs for a good time.  (Don't quote me on that.  I haven't seen it in person.  I've only heard about it.)  Yup, she was a Budweiser drinkin', bottle bustin', bad roots sportin' girl.  Who had him.  And I didn't.

To say I trash talked her, well, would be the truth.  I was jealous.  My ego had been demolished.  I looked for every opportunity to tell folks what a trashy little ho' she was.  That boyfriend, stealin' skank!  I'd never met her, but I was sure she was no match for me!  I'm prettier.  I'm thinner.  I'm smarter.  I'm nicer.  At least, that is what I tried to tell myself.  On the inside, though, I felt ANYTHING but pretty, smart, or nice.

OMG!  Did you see her???  She is still wearing a perm.  LOL!  Doesn't she know that mall hair went out about 5 years ago?  And look at those roots!  She looks like a skunk.  He needs to quit buying her cigarettes and buy her some Miss Clairol.  She doesn't even go to college.  She has a JOB or something.  LOL!  I know, right?  How ridiculous is that?  I guess she's needs a way to pay the rent on that trailer.  

Fast forward to March.  Mardi Gras, as a matter of fact.  Pass Christian parade.  The party parade to be outdone by no other.  If you are a college student living in southern Mississippi, you do NOT miss the Pass Parade.  Everyone is there, and everyone is drunk.  Seriously...  In order to park your vehicle near the parade route, you have to park it a few days before.  It's that BIG.

That's exactly what one of my friends did, though, so on the day of the parade we were all piled in the back of his truck rocking it!  It was a beautiful day.  We had Depeche Mode pumped and the keg tapped.

Your own.  Personal.  Jesus.
Someone to hear your prayers,
Someone who cares.
Reach out and touch faith...

It just couldn't get any better than that day.  Of course, you know things were going too good to make it a memorable day.  While we were looking like rock stars on the back of that truck, my ex and Miss Thang were walking around near by.  I'm sure they were pissed because all the people I was there with I'd actually met through him.  They were his friends first, but they were with me.

Before I realize what was going on, Miss Thang grabbed me by the hair in the back of my head.  At first, I just thought someone was trying to hug me.  I never saw or heard her.  She tried to yank me out of the back of that truck!  See, I told you she was a rough one.  OMG!  What if I break a nail??  My make up!  God don't let her mess up my make up.  I don't fight!  I just talk trash.  I don't actually act like it!  Lord, I hope nobody sees this. 

I couldn't resist!  This is for you little pervs out there who are trying to develop a mental picture of the whole episode.  Get your minds out of the gutter! 

Lucky for me, I think Scrumptious Chris got her off of me.  I was so embarrassed.  And humiliated.  That's what I get for being such a bitch running my mouth!  See??  I told you Karma has been spanking my ass for years.