Letter to Amy Winehouse

I'm probably going to Hell for this.  Ya know...talking bad about the dead?  But, heck, she wouldn't listen while she was alive.  Maybe now that's she's dead and can't talk back, she can hear what I have to say.

Dear Amy Winehouse,

WTF???  Girl, you were a hot mess!  Didn't you realize your behavior was completely destructive and...well...very unlady-like.  Seriously, you were such a beautiful girl with a beautiful voice.  The world could have been your oyster.  You could have been sitting pretty in a gazillion dollar mansion with a gazillion dollar wardrobe and a gazillion dollar recording contract.

Instead, you chose a path that was sooo not taking you anywhere but to the grave.  Did you honestly think things would end differently?  I mean, hell, you were tatted up like a sailor which is so not attractive.  If you wanted some ink, why not a few small, meaningful pieces in obscure places.  Was it really necessary to place a big-ass horseshoe on your shoulder?  And what's with that boobage on your arm?  Really?  A naked woman?  I have not words for that one.

Then there is that worthless excuse for a husband.  Oh, Lord.  Another hot mess.  You should have dumped that one a long time ago.  He was a convict working as a gofer, for crying out loud!  Not that there is anything wrong with the occupation, but honestly, dear...you were on the verge of stardom.  You were way out of his league.  Gross!  He was probably someone's girlfriend in prison.  To say he was a bad choice is a ridiculous understatement.

Finally, what about all that substance abuse?  Sister!  You didn't need all that.  I mean, drinking is fun every once in a while.  But being a sloppy alcoholic??  So not cute.  Even worse, that heroine.  How disgusting is it that you were actually putting a needle in your arm so you could pass out and drool on yourself.  How did you expect to ever find a new man???  No one wants to go out with a girl who is bleeding at her latest injection site, mumbling incoherently, and unable to sit up straight through the appetizers.  Can we say bad date to the 14th power? 

Alas, I wish we could have had this little conversation before you did yourself in.  Ya know, I'm sad for your family.  But I am NOT sad for you.  You did this to yourself, Girlfriend.  You were 27 years old; old enough to know better.  You made your grave, Sister, and now you have to stay in it.

Sincerely,

Disgusted with Your Shenanigans in Tennessee

I'm hooking up with Mama Kat again this week.  For more reactions about the demise of Amy Winehouse, check out the other entries.

I Have a Serious Medical Condition

I don't do this very often, but I do think it's important to educate people from time to time.  Call it charity work or community service.  I sincerely hope that you come away from this post feeling enlightened.  You're welcome.

The topic today is a very common, yet quite serious, medical condition that affects about 85% of the female population.  Since women rule the world make up roughly 50% of the total population, that's about...well...uh...a butt-load of damn people who suffer from this condition.

The condition to which I am referring???  Premenstrual Syndrome, also known as PMS.  According to my personal favorite online hypochondria enabler source, MedlinePlus.com:

PMS refers to a wide range of physical or emotional symptoms that typically occur about 5 to 11 days before a woman starts her monthly menstrual cycle.

Symptoms may include any (or all, in my case) of the following:

• Disinterest in relationships
• Fatigue or low energy
• Feelings of tension or anxiety
• Feeling out of control
• Food cravings or binge eating
• Mood swings
• Panic attack
• Persistent irritability or anger that affects other people
• Physical symptoms, such as bloating, breast tenderness, headaches, and joint or muscle pain
• Problems sleeping
• Trouble concentrating

While there are ways to lessen the severity of the symptoms, the only cure is menopause which brings about a plethora of its own undesirable symptoms.

IT IS EFFIN' HOPELESS!  The best way to handle it, though?  Stay far, far away from me a woman during this time.  You've been warned.

Today, I am roughly 10 days shy of Mother Nature's little gift.  Unfortunately, many people of the world are oblivious or just don't care.  Whatever...  There never seems to be a shortage of shit to irritate my ass each month.  In fact, it's not even lunch time and I'm already annoyed! 

Here are just a few observations from the gym that got my panties in a wad this morning:

• People who go to aerobics but refuse to move their asses enough to break a sweat!!!  Why are you here taking up valuable space?  I personally have the body of a small moose and need to sweat as much as possible.  I can't exactly do that with your ass standing in the way!  Move it, Sister!  K?  Thanks, Hon.

• People talking on their cell phone while on the elliptical or during Zumba class!  Are you that damn important that you can't go an hour without it??  If you are, then you should probably have your own personal gym with a personal trainer and gourmet chef.  Get the hell out of here!  K?  Appreciate ya, Love.

• Women who don't wear sports bras!  Or any supportive device, for that matter.  That little tank with a shelf bra in it IS NOT ENOUGH!  Those girls of yours are flopping all over the place just waiting for the opportunity to break free and traumatize the rest of us.  If you are an A cup or greater, do us all a favor and get a damn sports bra!  K?  Great, Doll.

• Calculus!  It makes my head hurt with all those squiggly lines, symbols, and graphs.  Why must I continue to torture myself by trying to understand it?  No, it has nothing to do with the gym, but still...  I'm just sayin'.

Oh no.  It's lunch time.  Gotta go eat the legs off a table and dive into a bucket of ice cream! 

Peace out!