Okay … so I’m kinda sorta cranky.  But you have to admit — even you REAL men, GOOD men, SMART men — that SOME men just are an embarrassment to your gender.  Come on, you know it’s true.  So for the sake of good fun and to concurrently aid in shaking off my bitchiness, I’ve come up with a short list.  It could be a long list, so count your blessings.  I’ll refrain from emasculating the obvious —  Bill Clinton who gets a boner every time he passes a trailer park or John Ascroft who apparently gets a stiffie for aluminum nipples.

There’s plenty of others who’ve been rubbing me the wrong way … and when a FemDom Goddess (wink) gets irritated she just starts thinking evil thoughts about what she’d like to do or see be done to the offenders!  On a day like this I think the world itself would be a better place if a certain segment of its inhabitants were just finally, once-and-for-all, forced into panties with a butt plug shoved up their ass for good measure.  Going so far as to cuckold all of them, though, would be problematic:  If we cuckold all of them,  who would we cuckold them with?  Hmmm …  Seems the fantasy is NOT reality, after all.  Who knew?

Anyway this all started the other day when Rick Sanchez showed up at CNN in his regular time slot.  Say what you want about the election, it got me interested in THE NEWS.  Before Obama I was your typical twenty-something wannabe Princess type, worrying more about my pedicures and the perfect seasonal purse (never did find a good white one this summer) than the political landscape.  So — all in all — it’s been a rather good thing  … except the television is on around here a lot more than it used to be, as CNN — rather than classical rock — is now the background noise to my days.

But when Sanchez shows up, well, he is so weigtless and artificial that I’ve gotten to where I actually turn off  or at least mute the TV.  What in the hell is he doing?  Twittering and Face Booking and reading user comments … there’s just no substance here!

Then there’s the guy who sent me this email yesterday:  My best friend is Mr. X.  I masturbate to him all the time and he has no idea. I love talking about him via email and giving out REAL information about him.  Now I ask you readers, is that creepy or what?  Who does this asshole think he is to give out real info about anybody he knows, regardless of whether he jerks off to thoughts of them or not?  Particularly to a PSO, whom he knows nothing about.  And you can bet this email was copy and pasted into to dozen of emails and sent to dozens of girls.  Bleh.  If anything, he should give me his own real info, so I can tell Mr. X (and, yeah, I substituted the Mr. X for the real name), and everyone you know, what a loser pervert you are.

Wes Hayden, the cowboy contender on this year’s The Bachelorette, certainly deserves to have his fucking rights taken away.  Maybe even some enforced chastity.  If you weren’t watching (now that I TiVo, there’s a little too much of what I normally wouldn’t watch being recorded), Wes was one smooth talker (and country singer) who admitted openly that he was really there to promote his career.  And while his motives have since been debated ad nauseum all over the net, he did at least hint on more than one occasion that he already had a longterm girlfriend waiting back in Texas.  What a dirtbag!  And he was so smarmy … singing and twanging his acoustic guitar (geetar?) under Jillian’s balcony ala Romeo and Juliet.   Which might have been at least somewhat charming if he had any serious talent, rather than just being able to carry a tune.  Oh, and apparently, he’ll do anything for a buck.

Of course, I’ve just got to include the boorish and doltish Jon Gosselin, of Jon and Kate Plus 8, who abandoned his not-so happy-nest to trip the light fantastic with other D List not-so-super stars while schtupping  his (now ex) wife’s doctor’s daughter.  Maybe he thinks the earrings make up for his rude and crude (not to mention very public) behavior; I think he’s a loser putz of a man.  Yes, Kate was bossy and overbearing.  But when you have a puerile, self-centered numbskull who can’t hold a job for a husband, you really don’t have much of a choice.  I mean, after all, someone has to wear the pants!  A&E really needs to get around to changing the name of that show.  Possibly to Kate Plus 8?  Better yet and more accurately:  Kate Minus Wimp-Ass Whiner Boy Plus Eight.  And good for her and the kids because now they really will live happily ever after.  Good riddance to rubbish and dead weight.

And one more.  Just one more to cuckold.  At least for today.  You see I was sneaking down the book aisle at my grocery store the other day, even though I promised myself that I’d steer clear of all things hardback and paperback until I at least read at least ten of the hundred or so books I have piled here and there.  … and there.    and maybe there.  I didn’t buy a book, but I was amazed at what I saw among the hardbacks.  Which was UNMASKED:  THE FINAL YEARS OF MICHAEL JACKSON, by Ian Halperin.  Shame on him!  Could he get that book out fast enough after MJ died?  Talk about cashing in.  SCUM!  I checked out this poor-excuse-for-a-writer (he writes exposes … bleh!) at Amazon and … surprise!  The book only gets two out of five stars.  Goody.  And you can bet I would cuckold his ass.

Ahhhhh  … I feel much better now.

xo, Angela

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 12th, 2009 at 3:36 pm and is filed under And Another Thing, Funny Side Up, I'm a Bad Girl, KinKergarten, kinky phone sex, phone sex, Rhetorically Yours. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.