Ask the Bitch

“Hi, you’re on the air with ‘Ask the Bitch’, go ahead with your question.”

“Good evening, Bitch and thank you for taking my call. I have two questions. I recently purchased my fourteenth stuffed animal for the rear shelf of my Nissan Altima and was wondering if it’s appropriate to use them as a head rest while men fuck me in the back seat after I frinish the late shift at Denny’s. You know, the parking lot. Any thoughts?”

“Excellent question, caller. It is proper bitch-protocol not only to use said stuffed animals for that purpose but your lover may even be so inclined as to wipe his dick on them after he’s done boring you.”

“Interesting, I hadn’t thought of the latter. My second question, and it kind of ties into the first question, why are people the way they are and is there life after death?”

“Actually, that’s a total of three questions, caller, but I’ll let you slide. People suck and no, there’s no life after life so chomp down on it.”

“We go to Tallahassee, Florida, go ahead caller.”

“Yes, good evening Ms. Bitch. I was wondering, do you think it’s okay if I deny my husband sex because he turned into a fat repulsive suburban drone?

“Funny you should ask that, caller. I was just finishing up an article in Redbook on that very subject. Tell me, caller, how fat and repulsive is he?”

“Well, when I married him he was 180 pounds, not all that handsome, but how many guys are? Now he’s up to 240 and building steam.”

“Tell me about the hair growing out of his ears and nostrils. Does he see how close to an ape he appears?”

“Clueless, Ms. Bitch. And it’s projecting way out.”

“That’s as much as I need to know. I’m already in the vomit zone. Yes, you are legally allowed to deny the pussy and save it for a more deserving man. In the meantime, make sure he continues to fork over the cash and try to stuff a little away in a tin can. You’ll be needing it when you dump his ass.”

“Thanks, Bitch, I knew you’d have the answer!”

“Phoenix, Arizona, you’re on the air with ‘Ask the Bitch’. Go ahead, caller.”

“Bitch, I’ve always admired and respected you and really need your advice. My mother’s dying of cancer and my Dad has Alzheimer’s. He keeps forgetting she’s sick and is constantly fucking her on the hospital bed. The nurses are complaining. My son’s hooked on crystal meth and has robbed our home a dozen times, my daughter looks for approval from black thugs who impregnate her, my husband’s gay but won’t admit it, I drink myself to sleep every night on cheap Port, my ass is dimply and fat, we spend more time at Walmart, Home Depot and Target than we do with each other and I just gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. I’m wondering…what do I do about this pesky baby?”

“Sounds to me like you’re living the American dream. Hey, everybody has kids today. Seems like an epidemic. We have to take the good with the bad. I say wait it out and hopefully he’ll turn into another mindless drone following Bush policy. They fucked up the planet so bad I’m sure our problems will still be with us when he grows up.”

“Awww, thank you, Ms. Bitch, I just knew you’d be able to put it all in perspective!”

“No problem, honey, and get pictures of your dad doing mom on that hospital bed!”

“San Bernardino, California. You’re on the air with ‘Ask the Bitch’. Go ahead, caller.”

“Yea, I just want to say, bitch, that you’re a total fuckin’ bitch and I hate your bitch guts.”

“That’s sweet of you, caller, flattery will get you everywhere.”

“No, I mean it. I fucking hate your guts and think you’re the ultimate bitch that gives other bitches the right to be the bitches they are.”

“There could be no beauty without bitchness.”

“No, bitch, that’s where you’re wrong. I want a woman, not a bitch.”

“No, you want a robot with a pussy.”

“Fuck you, Bitch.”

“And the best to you and yours.”

“Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania….”