The ugly truth about a woman with a bearded butt.

WARNING. THIS POST IS A CATTY, LOW VIBRATION KINDA POST WITH MASSIVE INSULTS TO A CERTAIN UNNAMED PERSON. IT CONTAINS VULGAR WORDS AND DESCRIPTIONS. IF EASILY OFFENDED, DO NOT READ AND SKIP TO THE NEXT BLOG.

What you should know about ass bearded women.

A bearded ass is merely the epitome of lazy, fat or both. Women that take a high pride in themselves understand the importance of proper grooming especially in the ass region. One, because no one wants to see a beard peeking out between an ass crack and secondly, cleanliness is Godliness.

Often, the bearded ass woman will have a gaggle of other bearded asses and that’s not excluding they themselves are all equally fatties. In nature, fatties seem to pack up like a bag of jumbo puffs marshmallows. Let’s face it, thin, charmingly attractive and well mannered women don’t want to be seen canoodling with a hairy, beastly whale of a woman. That would be the equivalent of placing a dump next to a million dollar gated community, the property value drops.

Bearded buddies are often described as fugly, horse teethed and or having fat stacked flip flops purchased from those large chain discount stores. They love mumus, drinking beer. And, from the bottle or can no less. They often find seeking out the garage in order to have rendezvous’s with their car part salesman or beverage truck driver boyfriend, by which her teenage children will most definitely notice and report. Bearded bitches love snack time and cheap looking brick, shoebox houses.

Bearded ass fatties have the tendency to work menial jobs they got by forcing, a now ex-spouse, to pay more money for an education than the actual job is worth. And, let’s not forget how they pretend they are a scholars just because they went to college for a brief moment. Bearded butts tend to live in denial with the reality that a home depot worker makes more than they do without a degree. Whilst pretending, like a high paid actress, they put on the show of being a good mother, when in fact, they spend more time neglecting their children all in an opportunity to drink booze with other fat friends.

They are often known as dick suckers or cock gobblers verses actually being a fucker. Those fatties most assuredly swallow like the nasty cunts they are. The one thing that defines a woman of class is the simple question of swallow or spit? Only a swallower shows her true nature, trailer trash. But then again, fat women have to pull all stops because… Well.. Because they are fat.

Butt beards are known for several common traits, fat being the more obvious one and the more obscure being their gapping puss hole. Sloppy and oversized like that biggie size order of frys she’s pounded earlier in the day. They will complain they can’t feel a dick in that abyss because it would take the girth of a bologna log to fill that stinker hole. That Vag hole is like Jonas being a cock and that gapping puss the whale, swallowing it whole.

Butt beards equally have challenges of keeping their ass region clean, mostly because of that bear coat growth in their ass, but also because wiping that giganta – ass is as complicated as a rubix cube. Therfore, the slight smell of shit can be detected and or puss odor.

They typically choose m&m colored cars and love small stupid looking suvs as well as Ford focuses and dodge neons. They often have yellow kitchens, bathrooms or bedrooms as if all that cheer will brighten their gloomy shit hole life, which is an epic failure but nevertheless they try.

Butt beards equally love defending their brood of children even when caught red handed in a crime so long as that crime is against a more beautiful alpha female. Jealousy rules their world like the moon rules the tide.

Fatty ass coats love to invite grown children back into their tiny shoebox house, only to let them squat on a sofa like homeless hobo who just wandered in from the street. Clothes and filth will liter the living room like a horders house and if you just decide to be brave enough to see what articles of clothing are clean or not will most likely find is impossible. All clothing from an ass coats home will smell soured from leaving them to rot in the washer. Apparently, transferring them to the dryer is just too much effort.

The fridge will be a putrid over growth of rotten fruit, vegetables with good intentions and take out boxes. Milk cartons gone sour to old and crusty condiments will fill otherwise empty spaces and the very tinge of stink will be detected.

It’s important to note that women of this nature are often located/living in shit hole, back wood areas and typically man hate as a way to deflect their own fat asses, ugly faces and hateful attitudes. Mind set of a fatty is merely to use a man if they can catch one but they can not. If they do after say 35, it will most likely be another washed up fatty with a minimum wage job.

Bitter, bearded ass women should be avoided at all times. Go the other way, fake an emergency or out right call for help. They are not your friend and if they want to be, then you’re fucked anyway.

Disclaimer, this blog is written in good fun and fictional mirth. Any likeness to any person /persons or even affiliate is merely coincidence.

Thank you for reading ❤️

Cattiness can be cheap therapy. Especially when written.

Hypervigilent Me.

There is a moment in everyone’s life where we must ask ourselves if what we are doing is worth it. The next question, Is the action worth what you will benefit?

In my own need to avoid failure, I have chosen the route of brutal honesty. I know that if I attempt to be someone I’m not or even pretend to be accepting, have certain opinions or have beliefs I do not, I’ll most definitely fail. Why? That’s really simple for me to awnser, because I know I will fail. I’m incapable of the lie. I think it’s also because I have a strong sense of who I am and how I feel about something or an idea.

If I were to try and go against that, over time I’d end up letting the cat out of the bag. At that point, I have most likely disappointed someone in some way.

Therefore, I have to be true to myself even when the majority of people prefer the lie over the truth. And, that’s what I have found over the course of my life, people just don’t like the truth. That goes for pretty much anything and any topic.

Amazing really, but I understand it.

However, in the particular subject I’m referring I honestly have so many thoughts that it’s hard to compound them into something that is decipherable. There seems to be so many layers upon layers of emotion and just when I get past one, I find another waiting.

In a nutshell, I realize that if I’m forced to (deal/put up) with a certain individual who is nothing short of a miserable, unhappy and bitter person just so I can be around another, the choice is clear. I’ll pass on all of it.

I would like to actually write further about this in a more detailed way and I will, but for now I’m in the early stages of even understanding what has happened.

If I’m in a position to always be the target of someone’s hate then I’ll never be able to be anything more than the eye of a hurricane. I will inevitably be stuck inside the tumultuous winds around me and can never truly escape it.

Unless, I chose to never step inside the eye. And that’s where I’m at. I’m removing myself from the eye and walking completely away because in my opinion it’s just not worth the effort. In other words If I have to tolerate a heinous person just to have a relationship with another, I’d rather just not altogether. I just don’t care that much, and if it makes me a bad person so be it. I can accept it.

I have had to deal with a lot of things in my life that were challenging, difficult and at times down right ugly. Time has passed and that part of my life is over and I finally have the peace, happiness and joy I truly never had. With that being said, I can honestly say, I just don’t have in me to tolerate anything sub par. I don’t have to, and I’m not going to. I refuse to be someone’s target because they themselves can’t put there jealousy, anger and hatred where it belongs, on them. That individual, that one single person, is the very one with the problem. It’s not me. It’s them. And I don’t have to be apart of it. I can separate myself from it and I choose to.

I intend on going further with this because I think it’s important what I want to say and what needs to be said into the universe, but I do need a minute to formulate my words. I need to find them and gather them so I say it right because I truly believe that what I have to say is significant and important.

Perhaps not important to most, but there is atleast one person it might mean something to and even if they never read it, I still need to say it.

So, I’ll close for now with hopes of returning to the continuation very soon.

I’d like to thank my husband, my twin flame and greatest joy for giving me the courage to stand on my own.

Thank you for reading ❤️

Miss. Piggys Menopausal delusion.

I do say your honor, I think that piggish woman might, just potentially be, and or is, slightly menopausal.

I mean, she’s not exactly the most beautiful thing there is to look at with that rotund fat face and short tree trunk legs. Matter of fact, and that is of course if I were guessing, but she seems like the sort of woman who isn’t getting fed enough in her ol piggy pie. If ya know what I mean….

It must be difficult for a fat woman with a shrewed heart and badly cut bangs to find a sausage for her piggy pie. What a sad little world it must be for Miss. Pig, no one to love and no one to use. I don’t think she’s read the book titled Ego, as it is evident hers has taken over in an unsightly way.

If you’re asking me why, I have to think it’s because she is so seething with jealousy her mind is full of pork. Her soul is a fatty ball lumped into her large and sagging chest where she still flips over letting her grown children drink from her nip, although it’s been dry for quite some time.

Ah, yes. Her mouth, you ask….

She does, indeed have a large mouth of teeth to match her fat cankles, but one can’t help such flaws, not all pigs are as perfect as is a swan. Which if you must know, is what made the Pig snorting jealous. The swan.

It must be damning to watch from the mud and shit she stands in at the beautiful swan across the field in a stunning pond of her own. Pig, sad and pathetic as she is, must be forced to watch the Swan elegantly swim so deliciously in the water with her handsome Cob at her side and a brood of beautiful little ones swimming so perfectly behind her. The swan family is as happy as happiness could ever be only reminding Pig, she will always be exactly that, a Pig.

The honorable one speaks.

It is with my expertise and years of experience that it goes against the law of nature to take a Pig from its slop and put in the pond and expect it to be anything other than a Pig.

Someone important, although they remain anonymous, You can take a girl from the trailer park but you can’t take the trailer park outta the girl. Once trash, always trash, or Pig.

This song isn’t about you. None of them are. But, I wouldn’t want them to be.

Thank you for reading ❤️ Everyone knows a Pig.

DISCLAIMER :

These are colorful blog posts written from a vivid imagination about no particular person in general. Any likeness to a person /persons is merely coincidence as it’s all artful storytelling. Cheap. Therapy.

Summon the rocks

Your eyes can be so cruel, just as I can be cruel. I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.

Everything that you wanted I have done. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for *you*! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn’t that generous?

Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I move the stars for no one. Live without your sunlight, love without your heartbeat.

Just let me rule you and you can have anything you want.

Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great… You have no power over me.

Find me. I’m hidden between the faded pages of a storybook. Look closely and you’ll see me sitting behind a dream. That’s where I’ll be, waiting for you to call out my name.

Thank you for reading ❤️

My compass failed again

Outstretched arms, I take a deep breath, close my eyes and jump.

Falling is a spiraling sort of thing. My eyes can’t focus on the blur of twisted shapes around me. I can’t be for certain if I’m going this way or that way?

My mind doesn’t know if I am up or down. I can’t hear you. Are you calling my name? I think for a second, I thought I heard you call out my name, but then I begin to lose myself inside the fall. It’s cold here, I wish I had worn my sweater. I think to myself, God when does it stop. Will it hurt to hit the ground, I wonder before the spinning takes over once more.

Everything inside my head slips out from my fingers like ice melting across hot iron into the twirling oblivion. Memories dance around me like falling snow. I try to reach for them, but just as my finger tips brush past, they slowly fade away.

Am I alive? Or am I dead. I’m floating. Somewhere I move between time and space in the shadow of a star shaped heaven. I am still alone.

It’s only forever. That’s not that long.

Tear in your hand

All the world just stopped now.

Let me take a deep breathe, babe. If you need me I’ll be hanging with the dream king. I think there’s pieces of me you’ve never seen.

All the world is all I am.

The black of the blackest ocean and that tear in your hand. All the world is dangling for me now. You don’t know the power that you have with that tear in your hand.

Caught a ride with the moon, haze all clouded up my mind in the daze of why it could’ve never been.

So you say and I say, you know you’re full of wish. I can tell there are pieces of me you’ve never seen. Maybe she’s just pieces of me you’ve never seen.

Tear in your hand. All the world is dangling, dangling, dangling for me darling.