Katie Schwartz

Oh, how I love and appreciate a blog award, especially this one, the Sisterhood Award , from a dame I adore, Liberality Liberal . LL has bestowed this award on some bloggers I am looking forward to reading because their blogs sound way up my alley. One of the bloggers, Mauigirl, I adore sooo much. Thanks Libbylib, I'm a lucky dame. What I love most about the Sisterhood Award is what it means to me: camaraderie, mutual respect, appreciation for other women, elevating and uplifting, not degrading or disrespecting, and feeling connected, not because all women are going to like each other cause'ns we're of the Vsuasion. Though, it would be great if we could, at the very least be there for each other in some small way. Maybe even help each other achieve our goals, instead of trying to take a sistah' down. That just ain't right. I see a lot of that, as I'm sure we all have, and experienced it, too. Most unfestive, donchya think? Yeah... I know. The origin of sisterhoo...

Why do I want to be your president? Because goddamn it, I've earned it. Hell, I was an admiral's son, I didn't have to go to goddamn Vietnam, get shot down and deal with all those goddamn sadistic gook prison guards. No, I went because my prick of a father and his asshole of a father were goddamn admirals, for Christ's sake, and I had no choice but to pay off the poker bet I made with them and join the goddamn Navy. And after five years of eating goddamn rats and getting poked up the ass with hot bamboo sticks, then I gotta return to the states to a limping gimp of a wife who got herself fucked up in a car accident and got all fat on me? The cunt ended up with an ass on her the width of a Volkswagen, and after all I'd been through at the Hanoi Hilton, I was expected to come home and fuck that fat cunt? Hell, no! Then I met Cindy, who was hotter'n a two dollar pistol and her dad owned a beer factory. Why did I dump my fat ass first wife and get with Cindy? Bec...

So, yeah. okay. dish. Today, a friend of mine was driving along the highway minding her own business when some cuntola tried to sidle into her lane without signaling. She was going 55, and had to act quickly, you know how you do. She honked. Not long, not loud, short and quick. The lane stealing snatch called her fehatty. Fehatty! She's not fat. Chuvvy, yes. STILL. That's not really the point. Here is the point in my humble opinion when I've been called fehatty. It makes me feel soooo bad. As if fehatty-name-calling-snatchcookie called me the following one-liners: Stupid-fat-and-poor. Dirty-fuck-baby. And. Slovenly-bad-ass-wiper. It's okay to say fat. Chuvvy. Not a skinny minny. A chub on the low (meaning losing weight). Semi-Spheereena. Those I could live with. But, fehatty?! Ah, God, it's the worst. Cuntest updates from the Cuntessa (I cackle-snorted when I wrote that. Shame). I got the most di-viiiine PSA from the diva at PulpFriction . Her blog is so politicall...